Irish Fall
by dominiquesdh
Summary: *SEQUEL TO 'TWELVE DAYS IN AUGUST' & 'SUMMER'S END'* October 1801. The Darcys (from the French or English branch) and the Bennets (what's left of them) are facing quite a few changes. Changes in their lives and changes in World Politics. Come and witness how they'll try and make the world a better place!
1. Irish Fall: Prologue and First Chapter

**Title**_**: Irish Fall**_

**Author**: dominiquesdh

**Theme**: Alternate Universe – Historical drama - Romance (free variation based on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. This fanfic is a sequel of _Twelve days in August & Summer's End _which took its liberty with P&P at book III chapter II)

**Caution **_**spoiler alarm**_: If you haven't read yet the first books please stop reading here since the summary will probably spoil quite a lot of the story's plot. So be so kind as to look first at the two first books.

s/4454840/1/Twelve-days-in-August

s/5274770/1/Summer-s-End

**Warning: **This post contains the Prolog and the first chapter.

**Summary**: We read the year 1801. On August the first, French troops came ashore in Brighton. Nobody was able to stop them and at the middle of the month of August the whole of England's Counties were under French rule. Meanwhile, Geoffroy d'Arcy, commander in chief of the invading troops did meet a certain Jane Bennet in Rosings… This encounter had consequences since Sunday the sixteenth August 1801 Jane Bennet became Jane d'Arcy… Summer's End begian the day following the wedding at an unknown –_if late_– hour… and Irish Fall begins late at night in mid september somewhere in Ireland.

(Cast: all traditional characters of Jane Austen's P&P, a few new ones, including d'Arcy and a few historic figures such as George, Prince of Wales, Napoleon, at that time Premier Consul de la République Française; Alexander Czar of Russia and others ..)

**Disclaimer** : The characters I serve here _are_ Jane Austen's even if after two centuries they legally belong to all of us. Only those few I created are mine and I hope they'll bring something interesting to the story.

**Remarks:**  
My story is based on Jane Auten's book for the story and the 2005 movie for the visuals.

**Miscs** :

A (different) version of this fanfic already exists partially in French. My French reader got book one first and you will have the privilege to get books two and three first.

I'm no English native speaker and from time to time some failures (let's hope tiny ones) will slip into my texts and escape the vigilance of Karen my beta reader. Please let us know if there's a better way to say it in English…

As in book one and two, I'll use US spelling.

This third part is a work in porgress. Forty nine chapters are written and are being edited at this very moment and the story, having found its own life, is already asking to be extended. It was very kind of all of you to read my first stories and it was even kinder for those of you who encouraged me with their comments. It helps a lot to have a feed back to pull you into going on. As said it was quite an adventure and I loved it. I hope this third part will please you as did the others. Let me know your opinion!

This first post will contain the Prolog and the first chapter in order to get a clear posting order in the future.

* * *

**BOOK THREE: IRISH FALL**

* * *

**Prologue: Dublin Nightmare**

* * *

**Dublin Castle,** **Sunday the 17th of September, Early Morning before dawn.**

* * *

"Your Highness, Your Highness, wake up!"

George, Prince of Wales, drugged as usually with laudanum took very long minutes to emerge from his drug induced sleep.

"Yes, yes,…" he slurped. "What's happening?"

"The French, Your Highness. They are assaulting the Dublin Harbor fortification…"

_That_ woke George!

"Bloody Hell," came his outcry. "And I suppose they are winning?"

Governor General Holt was beside his Majordomo and could provide the answer.

"Their canons are definitely better than ours, Your Highness. They can stay out of the fortress' canons range and still hit them with diabolical accuracy. And since their cannonballs explode on contact…"

"We're screwed" grumbled the Prince of Wales while trying to sit up. "How can they be here? A week ago d'Arcy was unconscious and at death's doors and now he is probably here supervising his troops bombing me out of another Royal Castle."

He gave up and made a gesture; soon his manservant squad was pulling him out of bed.

He was presently standing and being dressed.

"How long?"

"Two hours," answered the general. "In two hours all our guns will be destroyed and they'll enter the Harbor."

George sighed.

God, how he hated that man. He was just coming out of a coma and was newlywed, by God! Why wasn't he just madly screwing his wife like any normal man would do while married with such a beauty? And how he hated those idiot directors from Cambridge and Oxford. Had they been just a little more supple _He _would probably be bombing Napoleon out of France right now!

There were shouts coming from outside.

And if there were shouts of anguish he was sure he could also hear hoorays. Count on the Irish to add insult to injury.

"What is happening in Dublin?"

"We have the first groups in the streets and the meetings in the pubs are becoming noisier. The riots should follow very soon, now."

The Prince of Wales shook his head. Couldn't this idiot do like every normal sycophant and go on lying, go on saying him what he wanted to hear like every other ass-licking toady?

"Will we get out?"

"The road to the south gate is being secured by your Horse guards. We should be able to evacuate."

_Thank God for small favors_.

"Let's go then and don't forget my father."

* * *

Adbul Ahmad Kinali smiled while stowing his blowgun in his casing. As usual, the poisoned horse guard was quietly slumping down in his saddle.

He didn't look like he was dead but dead he was.

Ten seconds later one of his men was replacing the dead soldier on his horse while two others were hiding the body around the next corner where another of his men would don an English uniform to soon replace another dead horse-guard.

And he was only one of twelve Special Forces Squads at work within Dublin Town on this Irish cloudless night.

Soon most of the King's escort would be replaced and the real game would begin.

The poor English sods were in for a big surprise.

Abdul had been with d'Arcy and Napoleon since the French take-over of the Middle East.

At the beginning the French were seen as another bunch of outsiders, heathen outsiders. But thanks to d'Arcy and Napoleon that feeling soon changed.

They have shown respect. Respect for the Faith and respect for the people's leaders. All the people's leaders!

Abdul is Shia and his brother was what the westerners called a priest, an imam, and now he was paid by the Republic to preach his Faith. And to convey a few well-chosen political messages that helped the new rulers to be better accepted. That was alright with his brother and his colleagues. The important point was that they could go on preaching and teaching the Faith.

There was respect for the true Faith and the new revolutionary philosophy had had no problem to convince all those ethnic minorities under Ottoman rule that the Republic was a smarter master than Istanbul.

And now French soldiers were defending Syrian and Egyptian borders while Eastern soldiers were fighting the Consulate's wars in Europe.

And the best of all soldiers were fighting the shadow war d'Arcy himself had taught them.

* * *

The carriages were rolling through the country side with his escort thundering around.

Probably going North but George couldn't be sure.

His father was in one of these rare periods of normalcy. He would really have preferred he was ranting as usual.

"A true ruler doesn't run. He stands and fights."

"Fred is the war lord of the family. He'll make the last stand in Dublin. He'll buy us a quarter of an hour–"

"Frederick is an idiot!" shouted his father. "He has no military mind."

George couldn't help but smile.

It was a smart move to speak of his brother. For the next minutes he would take the brunt of his father misgivings. Let's give him some more ammunition against dear Freddy.

"He has military experience… He commanded in Flanders. And we won!"

"He lost half his men" argued his father. "And the other half mutinied because of his poor leadership."

"But he won."

"No," insisted his father. "The other side lost by quitting the battle ground. Fred's an ass!"

_On this point we can only agree, father. But if I'm to avoid being at the center of your wrath I've no choice, but to keep on defending him_.

"He has fifteen thousand men to defend Dublin. Even he should be able to make a stand with such a mass."

"And that's why we're running, because you're convinced that Freddy is able to make a stand?"

"We run because d'Arcy has proven to be a better tactician and strategist than all our warlords. Fred included. So there is always the risk he will be able to surmount the odds."

"The Scotts will turn coat as soon as the first French soldier is in Dublin," countered his father. "There are no odds. We should have sent them to Canada."

"We have no other troops to replace them and you know as well as I that we couldn't leave Ireland without troops! The natives would have torn us to pieces."

"We should have eliminated the Society of United Irishmen after the '98 uprising," grumbled his father.

"We tried, father, we tried. But since the French postponed their invasion plans we were unable to lure them out of their holes until recently." He snorted. "That changed with the news of the coming of the French invasion fleet; the Society of United Irishmen was as surprised as we that they attacked Brighton and did not land in Kilcummin as predicted. And Holt was so confused that he failed to launch an offensive against them in the first days of the uprising."

"He wasn't confused; he was scared shitless" said George III. "He wanted to send us his troops to defend the homeland. It would have been worth a try–"

"With not enough ships and an uprising at his back? It would have been sheer idiocy!"

"Well," sighed his father. "He didn't get it done before you joined him here."

_Now it's my turn_…

"You should have stayed and gave him a battle."

"I'd be dead or in his custody now…"

"You've only put off the inevitable. Here we are again running like rabbits before the fox. And we could still end up dead or in his custody! As you see you traded England's homeland for a few more weeks of gluttony."

_Why does it always end with that?_ _What would be the reproach if I was an ascetic?_ _Time to strike back!_

"Our best troops are in India, father, because you ordered them there. There's nobody left to defend our European possessions but lukewarm Scott draftees and greedy German mercenaries. All hired by you and if I recall correctly against my protests."

"You weren't protesting out of strategic thinking but only because you believed it too expensive."

"Seeing the results it _was_ too expensive!"

"So was the money shoveled into my sons' education and upbringing."

_Ouch that hurts. How I hate him when he's not nuts_.

He looked out in the night and sighed.

It was time to change subject.

"The Irish, as you know, refused till now to give us open battle. Do you believe that will change?"

"Were they smart they would let d'Arcy's forces do the battling. But since they are Irish they'll come out and fight in the open. Holt will probably win a few victories before he's pushed in the ocean by your d'Arcy."

"He isn't my d'Arcy…"

"There you're right and that's a real shame. Would have loved to have him as commander in chief."

"No more than me, but even if he would have stayed nothing says he would have begun a military career. Or got to the top if he had done! Ours is a rather inefficient way to promote officers."

"Outside the navy you mean…"

"Perhaps, but even in the Navy nothing's sure nowadays. We've just lost two major sea battles against a navy which has lost eighty per cent of their experienced admirals and seventy percent of all their officers' corps."

"Nelson wasn't bested in a sea battle. That d'Arcy has cheated!"

"Putting those guns on those islands was a master stroke. Nelson was totally surprised."

"Without the range advantage he wouldn't have been able to do it."

"But he had it, father, and he still has it."

George III could only swear.

"It has been three years since, why haven't we closed that gap? Why are our gun makers unable to build guns with a better range?"

His son sighed.

"They can but the admiralty had problems replacing their old guns with the new ones. They're too big for our current ships. They tried on the bigger ships of the line but to house those monster guns they had to refit the whole deck plan. It took months for their test ship and the crew just couldn't adapt to the new guns…"

He snickered.

"As often d'Arcy did it better. He built new adapted ships around the new guns. We tried to adapt old hulls to these new guns and we lost months before it became evident that that wasn't the right way to do it."

"We launched new models?"

"Twenty four of them. Twelve at the docks of London and the rest in Aberdeen. I suppose they burned the London ones before getting out. The new Scottish navy will be quite impressive I suppose. Good and bad, money lost all the same."

His father looked him in the eyes and took his hand.

"Sorry for not being at my best these last years. With the French in uproar, I chose a very bad time to go haywire."

"You didn't choose, I suppose," admitted his son, "and becoming crazy isn't the worst."

"No" admitted his father. "The worst is my swinging between sane and insane." He snickered. "Must be unnerving."

"It i–"

His answer was cut by the first rifle shot. It was immediately followed by another single shot soon covered by a volley and shouts. Lots of shouts. Some angry, some surprised.

There was a bump against the carriage. A wail immediately followed by another bump and a loud stomp near the carriage's door.

The door which opened to let a horse guard climb in.

A very unusual brown skinned horse guard who smiled at them while aiming a very dangerous looking three barreled rifle in their general direction.

"Please, Your Majesties" said he with a funny accent, "do me the favor of doing nothing excessive. Your death has been planned into our general strategy but only as a last resort. You're much more useful alive, believe me. That said; let's go to the reason of my being here."

He bowed.

"Sorry to disturb your journey, Your Majesties, but there are a few unexpected changes in your planned schedule the Protocol has failed to inform you about. And the most important is that my master wishes to speak with you…" His smile broadened. "Since he is just now busy liberating another enslaved people he will be unable to join us in the very near future. But be assured that we will provide adequate shelter till the moment he can join us."

* * *

**Chapter One: Dublin Uproar**

* * *

**Dublin, Wednesday the 20th of September**

* * *

The whole French staff was looking at the map.

It was a very convincing –and accurate– map of Dublin and its surroundings.

"What's the situation Duroc?"

D'Arcy's expression was grim and upset.

"The town is cleared," answered Duroc. "No more military resistance anywhere. The garrison just collapsed. They surrendered as soon as they could to our troops. Those few who tried to run didn't even reach the suburbs of the city before being murdered by Irish lynch mobs."

He looked at his commander in chief.

"It's even easier than in Brighton. They are armed and equipped but they just have no will to fight. Most of them are Scotsmen and no longer consider themselves bound by the oath they gave George III. They want to be shipped back to Scotland to serve the new Stewart King. We count already twelve thousand prisoners/turn coats".

D'Arcy nodded and looked at those areas where the Irish "freedom fighters" were rampaging. He pointed toward the red figures picturing the Irish mobs.

"I want them stopped, Duroc! I know they are allies but wanton murder can no longer be accepted. I won't cry because of those poor sods who tried to run but I won't accept massacres and the murdering of women and infants."

"I know, Boss, but we are just unable to cordon every British household. We have maps but we have no area knowledge. We just don't know where to go. They know the town much better than us and they'll reach their victims before we even know there's something to protect."

"What about our local guides?"

"They helped us to capture the British troops but they seem to be unable to get information about what their 'friends' are going to do."

"Where's Kennedy? He could perhaps help…"

Duroc made a face and looked at his colleagues.

"They disembarked first thing two nights ago" said Kellermann whose ships had been the advance party of the fleet. "Haven't seen them since…"

"I saw them join Maureen earlier today" added Bessières who as commander in chief of the French cavalry had been the first general sending troops into Dublin. "I'd say by the general direction they took that they went to Dublin Castle…"

A frown came on d'Arcy's brow.

_Maureen and Kennedy and Dublin castle_…

He looked at Benevento who nodded his agreement before hurriedly quitting the room.

* * *

An hour later Benevento was back and the meeting was adjourned in a hurry.

* * *

Within minutes d'Arcy was at the Castle.

"Where is she?" he shouted while jumping from his horse.

"In your rooms, Sir, with your mother," answered the soldier who hurried out of the guard house to get his horse. "They just brought her a few minutes ago. Two more were injured."

"Where are the doctors?" he asked while running up the stairs followed by the Colonel whose duty was to secure Dublin Castle.

"Doctor Abd Arraman was accompanying them. And he signaled that his colleagues would be arriving soon."

D'Arcy nodded. Abd Alkader was the best physician of the whole French Army. He was with him since Syria and he had saved him and quite a few of his generals more than once, other officers and troopers not included. And he was the most loyal and dedicated man of his staff. He would do the job.

He finally arrived where his father in law was waiting for him.

"How is she?" asked d'Arcy while running toward his apartments.

"Injured but it's only a flesh wound. The bullet went through her shoulder without hitting a bone or cutting an artery. She'll be fine within a week."

Mr. Bennet snorted while hurrying after his son in law.

"Not so Maureen" said he. "She took the brunt of the volley. Abd Alkader cut three bullets out of her chest. She's lost a lot of blood. We will probably lose her."

"She's not dead yet," shouted d'Arcy angrily. "She's a fighter; she won't let herself die. Are they conscious?"

"Jane's asleep under drugs. Maureen is awake. She refused to be sedated…"

* * *

They finally arrived at their apartments.

d'Arcy was soon at his wife's side and took her hands at his lips.

"I can't even let you out of my eyes for an hour and you jump into the fray," he whispered before putting his wife's hand down.

He looked at her mother who was bathing her brow with fresh water and wet linen.

"She's out for the next hours. She was hurting a lot. She wouldn't accept the laudanum but I insisted. No use letting her suffer for nothing."

She pointed toward the other door.

"I demanded the same of Maureen but she refused. I understand why even if it tears my heart apart". She placed her hand on his arm" You can do nothing for Jane for the moment. Go see Maureen. She probably needs you more at this moment."

He nodded.

"I'll be back very soon. You're right: I'll have to speak with Maureen."

Mrs. Bennet glanced at him with a frown.

"She saved Jane… She couldn't have done any better."

"I know," he answered. "I wasn't going to blame her for anything."

He stood up and went to the next room where a low wail was betraying Maureen's whereabouts.

She saw him coming and made a face.

"How's she?" she whispered.

"She'll live" said d'Arcy while kneeling at Maureen's side. "You did your job."

She shook her head.

"Not quite. I couldn't get them all, Boss. There was a whole angry mob!"

"Not important, Maureen. You'll give me a complete report when you're up and–"

"I'm dying," she interrupted. "Doc's eyes said as much. He's a lousy liar." She coughed and a red spray soon stained the linens. "God's got an ugly sense of humor, getting me killed by an Irish brother." She snickered and laughed and coughed and strangled herself.

He helped her to calm herself and took her in his arms.

"Got me in the lungs, the bastard, before I could crush his balls. Squealed like an English pig… But was Irish, s'not enough to stop him… Got his knife in and now I'm drowning in my own blood."

"No you're not," said d'Arcy while opening his emergency satchel.

He took out a little blue vial, uncorked it and placed it against Maureen's lips.

"Shut up and swallow, Maureen."

She shook her head and he lifted the vial so as to spill nothing of his precious content.

"No drugs for me… I want to be conscious till the end. No going out sleeping for me. I want to feel every last moment of my life." She coughed again and he could feel her blood on his face, searing as if made of molten metal.

She gurgled a laugh.

"Who would have thought that I would try so hard to cling to my bitch of a life?"

She coughed again and looked him in the eyes, pleading.

"You'll stay with me, love? I'd like to have you at my side one last time… Just before going to hell to pay for my sins… A last glimpse of Paradise…"

He couldn't stop treacherous tears to moisten his eyes.

"You're not going to die," he insisted while forcing her to open her mouth. "Shut up and swallow, Maureen. It's an order!"

She couldn't resist and soon the blue liquid was disappearing in her throat.

He saw tears welling in her eyes. For the first time in five years, he saw her cry.

"Don't go away… Please… Don't let me down…"

He sat on the bed, took her head against his chest and began to gently rock her.

"I'll never let you down, lass. Never. I'll stay with you. I promise…"

* * *

The rumor had spread through all of Dublin in mere minutes. More speedily even than the news of _His_ landing.

_His wife has been shot_.

By Irish patriots she was trying to stop before they put a church to the torch.

A church full of English scum to say the truth but a church nevertheless. No true catholic should ever go against a church. But they were angry.

So very angry.

And His wife was with kid.  
_Kids_ it was said.

Each and everyone who had a say in Dublin had rushed to Dublin Castle.

To try and stop what they knew could happen.

And here they were, most not even able to look _Him_ in the eyes.

Because there was no word apt enough to describe what they were facing.

He'd stood there awaiting them.

They already knew –the tales of what he's done years before in that English Jail had steadily grown for years– that he was a formidable man but just now he was more than a man. He was wrath incarnate and they were all feeling –_knowing_– that their lives could be forfeit in the blink of an eye if someone, anyone was to make an ill-fated remark.

Fear was seeping from the walls and they knew that anything could happen. Anything!

"It's time to stop this," said a forceful voice coming from behind them.

The whole crowd jumped but d'Arcy just slowly looked up.

They turned and saw a little man walking toward them.

They parted to let him walk through the mass of bodies.

Soon they were facing each other.

D'Arcy opened his mouth but was soon stopped by a forceful gesture.

"Don't even try, son! You're unreasonable and you bloody hell know it. This has to stop! And it has to stop here and now! It was all Jane's fault and you're not going to trash and punish a whole country just because your wife is unable to believe that bad people exist!"

D'Arcy and the little old man looked at each other for very long and very frightening minutes. Everybody in the big room was conscious that everything was depending on the result of the fight of wills they were witnessing.

Finally d'Arcy lowered his eyes and the whole assembled mob discovered it could breathe again.

"You tried to kill my wife!" shouted d'Arcy at them. "I cross two seas to free you and you-try-to-kill-my-wife!"

"We didn't know," said a voice.

D'Arcy snapped in the general direction of the voice.

"And that's an excuse?" he shouted. "Your first night of freedom you go on rampage and become a murdering mob killing and raping innocent people?"

"They weren't innocent," tried the same voice.

"That's not your business to decide! I am the chief of seventy thousand soldiers who invaded and took hold of the country of our archenemy and while I was in charge not one of them has killed or mutilated innocent people. We brought honorable men to be judges in impartial courts which would have been able and willing to bring guilty people to get what they deserve! And what did we get?"

His eyes looked over the people and each one of them was sure he was looking directly at him or her.

"A lynch mob! A filthy ugly fucking lynch mob!" He didn't shout because it wasn't necessary. Each and every one of his words was tearing its fire directly into their souls. "I won't let a lynching mob decide in a country where I took responsibility! If what I unleashed is to be a reign of terror and wanton murder I have nothing to do in such a cesspool and I'm returning where people are decent enough not to attack pregnant wives and innocent babes!"

"It won't happen again," said a woman in the front rank.

D'Arcy turned his gaze in her direction.

"It should never have happened," he said in his most glacial voice. "You had the chance to show to the world that Ireland is home to a fair and gentle people able to forgive and to go beyond what the Brits had done to show themselves as decent human beings. And what did you do?"

He looked once more at each and every one of the people who had gathered in that hall as soon as the news has come to every ear in Dublin.

"You just showed the world that you were just as bloodthirsty and irresponsible as your English brethren!"

That got him a few grumbled retorts.

A few very discreet and hidden grumbled answers but reactions nevertheless!

"Yes, brethren," he insisted. "And since you are not worth the spittle to spit on you, I'm out of here. As soon as my wife and her bodyguard are able to journey I'm gone. Good luck with your lynch mob crusade!"

And out he stomped.

* * *

"That went well" said Edward Bennet not quite able to smile so soon after their little stunt. "They are all scared shitless."

"And well they should. This very morning I was at the brink of unleashing my armies on them."

"I wouldn't have let you" said Duroc while sipping his tea. "I quite like that new image of ours. I won't let you go back to our Syrian one."

"You'd follow your orders" countered d'Arcy.

"We'll never know, Boss! I could have remembered that I'm Napoleon's man," he said with a smile.

"Not to forget" added Kellermann "that I'm quite sure that my lads wouldn't have followed you on that ugly path. Irish maids have proven these last hours that they are quite friendly with soldiers freeing them from a foreign and bloody yoke."

"No need to speak any longer about hypothetic outcomes," said Mr. Bennet. "Luckily for Ireland I was there to stop my son's wrath."

"Out there it didn't look like it was stopped," smiled Bessières.

"We are great actors," snickered Mr. Bennet. "I give them half a day and they'll be at the Castle's door begging for forgiveness."

And before d'Arcy could add something he cut him out.

"And forgiveness will be granted! It was Jane's fault and you know it as well as me." He sighed "And speaking of my daughter, you'll have to do something about her very soon or you'll spend the next twenty years running after her trying to save her…"

D'Arcy nodded.

He had gotten three different reports and all had been very specific about everybody trying to dissuade his wife from going on her reckless scheme.

"She–"

"Don't even try, Geoffrey," said his father-in-law who knew exactly what his son was trying to say, "or you're lost. She meant well indeed but she must understand that she can't go on being a liability for you. While we are alone we can probably agree that it is thanks to her the English population of Dublin is still alive and safe but let's be very sure that she never hears that version! Or we'll never be able to reason with her again! She has to understand that she can't just go on hopping between angry mobs and frightened if not innocent civilians. Even for d'Arcy's there's only so much luck left!"

He clenched his teeth.

"Without Maureen she would be dead! And we could still lose her gallant bodyguard…"

"Doc says she'll live" said d'Arcy who knew exactly why she was going to live. Now he owed that witch a life and he knew he would have to pay. "She's shown Irish fighting spirit till the end! And now she'll recover."

Edward Bennet made a face. He had been there and he had seen the three bullet holes and the dagger wound in her chest. Nobody gets such holes and survives. Nobody. He would have to speak to Geoffrey. In private. Because with Jane out under sedation he was the only one who could have been able to do something while Maureen was dying. But before that there was the little problem of his daughter.

"As soon as she has recovered I'm going to have a conversation with her," said he with finality. "A very energetic conversation."

"I'm her husband, I should–"

"No," interrupted Mr. Bennet. "She'll need you afterwards. She's just going to get her first scolding in her whole life. She will be in need of a friendly and loving shoulder. And I'm sure you will be much more convincing in that role than in mine."

Edward Bennet barely could resist to laughing aloud.

"And gentlemen, please take advice from an old inept father. Be really careful what you wish for with your children. I wished for twenty years that my eldest began to show more liveliness in her life. And now, having gotten it, I really regret it."

* * *

**Next chapter: Conclusions and acceptations**

With the return of Elizabeth Darcy, her husband and a very grumpy general...

* * *

A last word before submiting you to the subtle and ancient torture of the long wait...

These two chapters are better than they were because of the dedicated help of my new beta reader.

With her advice it can only become better.

Thanks Karen and good work!


	2. Conclusions and Acceptations

So here is chapter two. Much better than it was a few days ago... Wouldn't have believed there was so much to correct. Well thanks to K's magic wand it's nearer to perfection now! What's still imperfect is the story and that's all my fault.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter two: Conclusions and Acceptations**

* * *

**London, the 20****th**** of September **

* * *

Her shout woke him.

He was immediately holding her.

"What happened?"

She shook her head while massaging her right shoulder.

"I'm not sure… I was dreaming and suddenly I felt a spike burrowing through my shoulder." She squinted her eyes in hard concentration. It was difficult to grasp the remnants of her dream. Even more so since her abrupt awakening! "I was dreaming of Jane. I'm sure. Or more to the point I was Jane in my dream… And it was night and there were shouts and…"

She shook her head again but this time as if to force the ugly visions to dissipate.

"Did something happen to Jane?" asked Fitzwilliam who, since the nightly "pond" episode was very conscious of the link between his wife and her sister.

"I do believe so," answered Lizzie. "She was in danger and now she's in pain." She touched her shoulder. "As if she was injured."

Fitzwilliam made a face.

"I should have insisted more. A military campaign is no place for a pregnant woman. He should have accepted to let her stay with us."

Lizzie smiled at her husband and they shared a long passionate kiss.

"Would _you_ have accepted to be apart from me for months?" she whispered while nuzzling herself against him.

"Of course not, but then I'm not leading an invasion of British America, it–"

He stopped mid-sentence.

_A military campaign_! _To British America! Once more_, _by Jove, he's suckered us_… He kissed his wife, jumped out of the bed, slipped into his dressing gown and ran toward their common bedroom's door.

"Excuse me, dear. I just thought of something. I need to get some confirmation!"

She looked at him quitting their bedchamber.

"Confirmation? Where? Fitzwilliam, it's the middle of the night…"

* * *

"Richard… Wake up man! I need your expertise."

Richard grumbled before opening his eyes.

"Fitz? What happened? What time is it? Why are you here?"

"It's time to answer my questions, Richard. And I believe it's important."

Richard looked at the window and clearly outside the night was still very dark.

"In the middle of the night, Fitz? What can be so important that it couldn't wait till morning?"

"As said I need your expertise, Richard. Stop wasting my time, stand up and come with me to the library."

Richard grumbled once more and began to extract himself from his bed while his cousin departed his room.

He looked at the closed door and swore!

"I'm the general here, remember? I'm the one who should give orders! The one to hassle the others. Why is it that there's no longer respect in this world?"

* * *

When he joined his cousin in the library he was not really surprised to find Elizabeth huddled under a cover in the library's sofa while Fitzwilliam was foraging through his best atlases. She winked and smiled at him just before beginning a huge yawn inviting him to do just the same.

"Fitz, I really hope it's important. I've quite a few people to see in the morning."

"I do believe it's important, Richard," answered his cousin while going through one of his atlases, "and rather than go on complaining make yourself useful and put some logs on the fire. It's chilly here!"

Richard did as demanded while complaining even more.

"Yes, Sir, of course, Sir, why not, Sir…"

"Richard, please be serious we have important matters to discuss."

"At four thirty in the morning? I really hope it's important!"

Darcy stopped going through his pages and looked at his cousin.

"Richard, in your opinion, could d'Arcy have disembarked in Ireland?"

That stopped Richard's grumbles immediately.

He walked to the map table and looked at the map on the pages his cousin had opened. His eyes made the trip from London to Dublin.

"Not with the Sovereign," came the answer. "With that old bucket he would just only come in view of the coast of Cornwall."

"And if he changed ships soon after leaving London?"

"Depends, but he would have needed a very fast ship. If he changed for a light frigate or a schooner able to push the speed to nine or ten knots, he could be in view of Dublin. Why are you asking?"

Darcy didn't answer going on with his own thought process.

"What about the rest of his fleet?"

"They sailed out of Plymouth and Bristol if I remember well. They could easily be in Ireland by now."

"Since when?" asked Darcy.

Richard looked once more at the map and did the necessary math.

"Two days ago probably. Sunday morning. Early…"

Darcy shook his head.

"Then that's what happened, Richard. D'Arcy led us up the garden path with his Louisiana fairy tale. He never intended to go to America: he's right now invading Ireland!"

Richard didn't answer immediately but let the numbers flow through his mind. Yes if that had been d'Arcy's real intention he could be in Dublin. If he had changed for a light speedy ship he could have been there at the same time as the Bristol and Plymouth fleets, indeed…

"How can you be so sure, Fitz? He could be there but I'm quite sure that he never spoke _once _about Ireland not with his pet general and not with his wife… And an invasion is not an endeavor you want to spoil by bad planning."

"Been busy spying on him, I see."

Richard didn't deny and didn't try to look innocent.

"Even he agreed on that part of my mission and I did what my King asked of me. It wasn't very difficult since I had no difficulty bribing guards and servants."

Elizabeth used her blanket to hide her smile. Sure that said spies' information came Richard's way with her brother's approval.

"But," Darcy went on, "there's nothing that could hinder him launching an invasion of Ireland, is there?"

"Of course not! He has the equipment, the ordnance and the man power to establish a major military bridge head in America. He has everything needed aboard his ships to do the same in Ireland. If, _and only if_, he has the means to disembark because I know that none of the ships he took is of a design to go ashore without a port."

"He has a port, Richard, believe me he has a port! Right now he and his men are in Dublin."

"How can you be so sure?"

Darcy made a face and raked his hair with his hands and pointed toward the clock of his library.

"Because! It's just the right time for him to be there to begin his invasion."

He looked at his cousin and scratched the stubs of his sprouting beard.

"I had the feeling that he was hiding something. The way he was looking at us these last days made me nervous. He had that same sparkle in the eyes that he did the Sunday before our double wedding. As if he was enjoying in advance the surprise he was preparing."

He looked at his wife.

"But everything fell together when Lizzie awoke from her dream."

Richard turned toward Lizzie with a question in his eyes.

"Yes," insisted Darcy, "then there was Lizzie's dream this night. It placed all the pieces of the puzzle just at their right places."

He looked at his wife.

She sighed and nodded before speaking.

"I woke up because of a dream where I was looking through Jane's eyes. There were people in front of her. Lots of people. Angry people with torches and sticks. And suddenly there was that awful pain in my shoulder. And I woke up. I can't explain anything but I do believe Jane's been injured."

Richard nodded but they could see that he was only half convinced.

"Let's resume; he is in Dublin and the invasion of Ireland had already begun. So it seems that I'm even more helpless then a month former when he came ashore in Brighton. I would have loved to get that news later, very much later!"

"The facts are the facts" countered Darcy. "You can't hide before the truth."

Richard chuckled gloomily.

"And the truth is that –_if you are right_– I just gave proof to my King that I'm even a lousier spy than I was a lousy colonel."

Lizzie looked at her cousin and shook her head.

"If you want to be a renowned military leader" said she "I fear you're not in the right army."

She stood up and went to her cousin. She took his hands in hers and looked him in the eyes.

"I know you're not going to like what I'm going to say but it's perhaps time to think about changing your allegiance…"

"You promote treason?"

Lizzie shook her head.

"No I promote reason! You can't go on berating yourself because of facts which are out of your control. Geoffrey has the better armies, the better subordinates, the better spy net and the better long term strategy. And he clearly has the backup from the French government to go on as he wishes. Do you really believe that England as it is ruled right now will be able to reclaim its liberty very soon?"

She made a discreet sign in direction of her husband who came also to Richard's side.

"We can, of course do nothing to change what has already happened. It's already too late to inform the Prince or the court. If, as I fear, it happened, they probably got the news in form of a carronade."

Richard sighed heavily.

"If you're right, what shall we do about it?"

Darcy shook his head.

"I don't know, Richard, but I needed to be as sure as possible. Don't you see that, if what I fear happened, it changes everything? This time it's possible he could succeed and capture the Crown Prince or worse: the King. And if that takes place you know as clearly as I do what's going to happen."

"God, indeed, I know," whispered Richard while becoming white as a sheet .

* * *

The Darcy's went back to their bedrooms.

And even as sleep had eluded them they were in no mood for speaking or making love.

They just huddled in each other's arms happy to be able to feel the other's presence and basking in the certainty that whatever could happen they had each other…

They saw the sun rise and decided that sleep would no longer be this day's companion.

They bathed and dressed in silence. Both worried about Jane and the future of their country. Not necessarily in that order.

They went to the morning parlor to break their fast and found a very gloomy general already eating. They made no comments and in silence began to eat.

They were just finishing and all wondering what to do with their new knowledge when noise led them to stand up and look out of their window.

They looked at each other wondering why a –French– cavalry troop and four carriages had just stopped before Darcy's town House.

They got their answers when they saw Lebrun in full Consular Regalia climbing out of the first carriage and walking swiftly up the entrance stairs followed by what could only be called a troop of public servants and secretaries.

Two minutes later they were introduced by the Darcy butler.

Darcy, his wife and Richard were standing in the Manor's entrance where Lebrun saw them and smiled at the couple and ignored regally the general.

"I wanted to be the first to announce it, Mr. Darcy but it seems that from now on protocol asks me to call you 'Your Majesty'."

Darcy made a face and Lizzie felt his fingers crushing hers.

Of course it would have been that same day.

Lebrun held out a hand and a scroll with what seemed like dozens of wax seals dangling from multicolored ribbons was immediately put into his hand.

He immediately held it out to Darcy.

"This document was brought to me by a messenger this very night. I must say I was surprised since we were quite sure that the Welsh wouldn't approve your conditions. And it was an even more surprising novelty that they went through us to make it known." He smiled at the flabbergasted couple before him. "I, as the representative of the French government must say that I was very satisfied the Welsh did it that way. It seems your brother's speculations were right on the spot. It is better to nurture allies than to trample enemies into submission."

Darcy took the scroll and began unrolling it.

"It's Wales' official demand to France to accept your departure to Cardiff where you're to be crowned as the new Sovereigns of the Kingdom Of Wales."

He bowed very low and handed a letter one of his secretaries pulled out of another portfolio.

"Here's France's official acceptation. Congratulations your Majesties."

* * *

"No reason to change anything. There's no reason the same building can't accommodate two different Embassies!" General Richard Fitzwilliam said forcefully in full military and ambassadorial regalia.

"Yes there is" countered the Third Consul in full Consular Regalia. "Darcy House and all other estates belonging to the Darcy Family –_your old town house included_– have been granted extraterritorial status by France and are now considered as parts of the Welsh territory."

He pointed toward the floor.

"So this is Welsh territory and Great Britain has no right to take hold of any land belonging to an Ally of the French Republic!"

"That should be the Welsh rulers' decision, not yours!" barked Richard.

Lebrun smiled at Richard, a very sarcastic and caustic smile.

"I'm afraid you'll have to move, but don't be afraid. France is magnanimous and we have already decided to grant you another building in order to give Great Britain a means to be represented here in London. It happens that we are in possession of a few interesting buildings in Fulham…"

"Fulham?" shouted the general. "Why not East End?"

"If you prefer we could probably find something in East End…"

Darcy looked at his wife and with a frown let her know that he wished her to intervene. In certain social matters she was probably better suited than him.

"Gentlemen, please" said Elizabeth immediately. "Quiet now. We are still overwhelmed by the latest news. I'm sure a solution can be found between France, Great Britain and Wales as to the location of said Embassies."

She smiled at the Consul.

"We are very grateful for your gesture, _monsieur le Consul_. In granting all Darcy Estates said extraterritoriality you've proven that you are a friend of the family. It is a very kind and obliging gesture… Thank you in the name of our family."

She looked at Richard.

"Our whole family…"

Richard reluctantly agreed.

* * *

George Darcy was at the brink of collapse.

King of Wales! Darcy! That couldn't be possible.

He was the eldest son. He should have been chosen. Why were those idiots asking Fitzwilliam Darcy?

He calmed down. And forced himself to leave the realm of frustration and to think clearly again.

Of course!

Because of d'Arcy.

That conniving troll has been manipulating everybody behind the scene. He knew that George Darcy was of a sterner stuff than his cowardly younger half-brother. He sure wouldn't be able to handle _that Darcy_ as easily.

So he had influenced those weaklings into choosing the feeble minded one, in order to be sure to be able to govern Wales from the shadowy background of his lair.

Because he feared George's superior will power.

And he was right to be afraid of George Darcy. Because of all the Darcy brothers, George was the only one who was able to topple that ominous French nuisance.

George Darcy took a long and difficult breath before walking toward the back door.

He had a lot of things to prepare.

* * *

Coming soon a 'background chapter'

**Chapter Three: Irish Sunset**


	3. Irish sunset

**Chapter Three: Irish Sunset**

* * *

**County Meath, Thursday the 21st of September**

* * *

"The orders are to stay put," said Josh Kincannon, "and the Boss doesn't take it lightly when one tampers with his orders."

"I don't give a damn what your orders are," shouted Rory O'Banon, the local hot-head of the Irish League. "We have the possibility to eradicate the bloody English and nobody will stand in my way."

Kincannon smiled.

"I can't let you do it, Rory. Be reasonable. Ireland needs to show an immaculate political image. We are good people and we don't kill civilians out of revenge."

Rory grabbed his opponent by his collar and tried to bully him.

"You and your leader can go fuck yourselves; it's my turf here and I'll do what I want!"

Rory looked at his opponent and soon the anger in his eyes became surprise and pain. Slowly he looked down.

Was that a knife in his belly? And the hand holding the knife was Josh's. How…

"There was another part to the orders, Rory friend," whispered his old childhood buddy. "And you're just witnessing it! You do what he wants or you'll be gutted like the asshole you are! He's the Boss here, not a freaking idiot who believes he can play God in his own backyard. Without him we would have remained under the British yoke for centuries, so you just don't discuss what he wants. You got it?"

Slowly Rory felt his legs give up. He fell like a deflating wind pipe.

"Join you soon in Hell, my friend," said Josh while extracting and cleaning his knife on Rory's shirt. "I'm going to see if your buddies are smarter than you…"

Two minutes later he was meeting with the nine other members or his action squad.

"Smain and José you get the body and dump it somewhere discreet in the neighborhood. The rest, come with me! We're heading towards Athlone. We'll stop at the next village; rumors say that there is a group there that's trying to stir up the country side. I'm sure they'd love to know the French are already here." He sighed. "Let's go, we have quite a few more visits to carry out today."

* * *

William Wesley looked out his study's window on his Estate's park.

No gardener was to be seen and that was indeed very bad news. The servants must have heard and word was probably, at this very moment, spreading out like wildfire.

Because news from the French Invasion under that cursed d'Arcy had just arrived with a few of his Irish friends coming out of Dublin, very talkative and loud friends.

He sighed.

With both his elder brothers in India and his youngest in British Tobago, he had only his wife and himself to take into account.

Not counting the family's estate, of course.

"What shall we do?" asked Robertson the local leader of the Ascendancy and definitely the most hated man in the whole of Eastern Ireland. His casual haughtiness had, for once, disappeared under a mask of sheer terror.

"The troops have surrendered without shooting a bullet," Walter Gibbons, 2nd Barronet of Hamwal and friend of the Wesley family, repeated for the fourth time, now more scared than anything else. "We have nothing to stop them…"

William did agree but never would he say it aloud.

His servants were, as they were speaking, probably running toward the surrounding villages. Some ran out of fear, because nobody in his right mind would want to stay within a house, which would, come next morning, be pillaged and put to the flames. Most ran out of spite and to be part of the punitive expedition that the Irish rabble would launch within hours.

He went to the cord and rang for his housekeeper.

She was at the study's door within seconds.

Another bad omen.

"What is the situation, Mrs. Brown?"

"They are all leaving, Your Grace. Only a few agreed to stay behind. And even if a handful of your English retainers chose to stay, most, typically those married to Irish lasses, chose to hide at their wife's farmstead."

"We should have denied them the right to marry Irish sluts" shouted Gibbons. "We should have hanged the first who asked…"

Wesley shook his head and hesitated. Should he shut the fool up?

Gibbons was at the brink of fouling his pants, no need to remind him that it was at the Church's command that some of his loyal men had married into the surrounding families. To force said lasses to embrace the Church.

"How many left?"

"Twelve men remain. Ten more people if you count the members of their families who were at the Estate."

"Conal?"

"Still with us, Your Grace."

"Send him out to gather the families of all retainers who chose to stay here. They will be much safer here. Go now, Mrs. Brown, haste could be of importance."

Mrs. Brown curtsied and turned around.

As soon as she was had left the study Gibbons exploded.

"Why send for their families. Let them die!"

Wesley shook his head.

"Really, Gibbons, being scared to death doesn't agree with what's left of your intelligence. Just think about it a minute. What would happen if they hear about their families being attacked while they defend us?"

"They would run," whispered Robertson.

Gibbons tried to speak but Wesley stopped him.

"Indeed they would! And shooting them in the back wouldn't help at all. On the other hand with their families here our people will be even more motivated to defend the Estate."

* * *

Josh Kincannon stood up and put his spy eye in his bag.

"Most of the servants and retainers have just fled. I saw a double score run towards the park entry."

Smain Ibn Gafer shook his head.

"Smart people, those. Without your little chat with that O'Banon guy the people in there would probably have been dead tomorrow morning."

"Some of them deserve to die" grumbled Sean Farney. "Bloody Robertson is in there, I'd like to have a little chat with him."

"Not our job, boys." He pointed South East. "That's Bessières' cavalry's job. We, we have to 'convince' our Irish brethren to be calm and patient and obedient."

He went to his horse.

"Let's go, we have a long way before us."

* * *

Joseph Marie Castagnet, Captain in one of Bessières' battalion frowned at the little group who had just vacated the best look out of the surroundings.

By the way they moved those were probably some of d'Arcy's 'Special Agents'. He was probably lucky to have been able to sight them at all. Most of his fellow cavalry officers had never even seen them.

He didn't like what they were doing, but he could not deny that they were efficient.

Well, like it or not, he had his job waiting for him just a few miles away.

"Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Take your squadron and enter the Estate which is just before us. Stay out of shooting range but don't let anyone go in or come out. I'll follow within the next minutes."

* * *

"Conal is back, Your Grace."

"Let him in," answered William Wesley when Mrs. Brown knocked at the study's door.

Soon the young man, his brother Richard's son, was shown in by a servant. He bowed as it was his duty. He didn't know that he was the Master's son. And since his mother's family was, as a whole, indentured somewhere in America there was no chance he would ever learned about it.

"The French are surrounding the Estate, Your Grace. I counted more than fifty just near the outer entrance. They wouldn't let me leave."

"Well if what happened in England is a rule," said the Master of the estate, "we should be better off with the French then with our own Irish followers."

He looked at his son.

"Conal, go back there and invite the highest ranking officers to come in. We'll see what they want."

* * *

Conal, who knew perfectly well that he was Richard's son, was split between two emotions: happiness to know that soon the rule of their English masters would come to an end and sadness at not avenging his mother's fate.

He loathed his father who had forced himself upon his mother and who had been unable to recognize his fifth son but had parted him from his mother.

His heart was bent on revenge but he knew quite well that until now he would just have signed his death warrant. With the French here, everything could change.

He walked toward the group of French soldiers and was soon able to join a little group surrounding what could only be an officer.

"I want to speak with your officer. I'm William Welsey's man and he is the Master of Dangan Castle the Estate you're trespassing."

The officer said three words and the pair of soldiers standing in his way stepped aside.

"Speak" said the officer.

"My master asks for your attendance, Sir. He wants to speak with you about himself, the estate and his guests."

The officer nodded.

"What guests are we speaking of?"

"The Honourable Walter Gibbons, 2nd Baronnet of Hamwal, and the Honourable Clyde Robertson, Earl Hammagh," answered Conal.

One man got to his saddle bag and came back with a book.

He searched a few moments and came with the needed information.

"Clyde Robertson ?" asked the officer.

"Indeed and Walter Gibbons…"

The officer called to one of his men, gave him an order where the names Robertson and Wesley were clearly stated.

The man literally flew on his horse and galloped away at high speed.

"Take me to your master, monsieur," said the officer. "We have indeed a lot to speak about."

* * *

The officer was wearing a bearskin hat which he politely took off immediately after saluting.

"I'm Captain Castagnet" he said while bowing. "I'm commanding a squadron of Consular Guards currently en route toward Athlone. At you service, Sir."

He spoke a well-accented, but fluent English.

William Wesley bowed in return and invited the Captain, who was alone, to sit.

The captain sat with grace and without losing hold of his sword nor being bothered by his heavy breastplate.

"What are your orders concerning the English population of Ireland?" shot Gibbons immediately. That earned him an angry glance from Wesley

"We are under orders to occupy the land and to secure law and order everywhere. We have no specific orders concerning any nationality. We are to protect the people living in Ireland. All the people."

"So you will protect us against the Irish rabble?" asked Robertson.

"We will maintain law and order until the military campaign has ended" answered the Captain without giving a hint about what he felt in relation with Robertson's words. "As soon as the situation is normalized we will hand the power to the legitimate Irish authorities who will then decide what to do. Meanwhile our orders are clear. No civilian is to be molested and the properties must be protected… The Proconsul has given strict orders: where we have troops there will be no exactions, no arson and no random killing."

Wesley nodded.

"What about weapons?"

"We have no orders to keep track or take hold of privately owned weapons," said the Captain. "But," and he looked at Robertson while speaking, "we will shoot anyone seen with a rifle or a pistol. We won't take any risk there will be no warning shot and no questions."

Wesley nodded once more.

"Will we be free to move?"

"It would be better not to, Sir. We can't be everywhere and we are not sure all the Irish will accept to follow the Proconsul's order. Stay here and we will be able to guarantee your health and survival. If you're in a carriage on the roads we probably won't be able to guarantee your safety."

He smiled at Robertson.

"It took us a month to secure England as a whole. Now the Citizens of England can journey from one end of the country to the other without taking a risk. We ask for the same delay here in Ireland. Within a month the situation will be stabilized and civilians should be able to travel safely."

"You're very certain of winning," grumbled Robertson.

"Your troops are surrendering as soon as they spot us!" answered the Captain. "Where are you going to find soldiers to fight for you? The people in England didn't rise to defend their fleeing King! Do you really believe that in a country where you killed several thousand men, women and children three years ago you'll find anyone willing to stand against the armies who took England's homeland in three weeks?" He shook his head. "If you want to try, feel free to do so. I and my men would rather welcome a little bout of action! If the truth must be told the English campaign was a rather dull one. We never saw any action." He grinned at Robertson. "Should it be that you are only brave when you have to fight against women and children?"

Robertson stepped forward but Wesley was immediately at his side.

"Don't be a fool, Clyde. Even if you should happen to win against the captain his men are just a few hundred yards away."

"He slandered us."

"No he just stated the truth," cut Wesley. "We fought against unprepared and badly armed peasants. It would have been more difficult against real soldiers."

Robertson tried and opened his mouth but once more Wesley shut him up. "You're my guest here and you are risking my family's life with your insane behavior. If you want to fight the French, you're free to go out and proceed."

Captain Castagnet shook his head.

"I fear we won't let him, Sir. He is much too precious to let him just die. There's a ten thousand Francs reward on your friend's head."

Robertson' face lost all color.

"Why?" he stammered.

"Seems the Irish want you rather badly, Sir. I suppose your record at Enniscorthy got you a greater popularity than you thought. I know quite a lot of d'Arcy's Irish bodyguards who would gladly come to greet you if they knew that you were here."

"If you fail to raise the alarm" whispered Robertson, "nobody will ever know."

Castagnet snickered.

"One of my men is already galloping toward Dublin with the news. I fear that whatever you try here is already too late to escape our attention."

Wesley looked at the young French officer who looked quite smug.

"How is it that you knew?"

The Captain smiled.

"The Proconsul does believe in getting as much intelligence as possible," he said. "And he believes even more in sharing said intelligence with his men in the field."

Castagnet looked at the men sitting in front of him.

"Before leaving Dublin, we were painstakingly briefed about what we would encounter, Sir. We know a lot about you and your friends in the Irish Ascendancy. We know where to look for certain people and we know how to get at them without losing too much time. He shrugged. "And that explains why two days after landing we are here at the Indian Governor General's Estate in Summerhill."

He nodded at Williams Wesley's frown.

"Indeed, Sir, we know about your brother Richard. And we know about your brother Arthur and his skills as a Strategist. We know even how many Indian troops he commands and where he was based a month ago."

His smile disappeared.

"Knowledge is power and the one rule the Proconsul insists on is that the more you know about your enemy the easier it will be to subdue him."

His smile came back.

"And his second rule is even more ruthless: let the enemy know how much you know about him and soon he will lose himself to doubts and procrastination."

He stood up and bowed.

"And meanwhile we act and win!"


	4. Outcome

**Chapter Four: Outcome**

* * *

**Dublin Castle, Thursday the 21st of September**

* * *

"You're awake."

She nodded while smiling.

"Yes, papa, I'm awake. The laudanum's effect's long gone. The hurt's there to remind me what could have happened. No need to rub my nose in it. How is Maureen?"

"Better. She's alive, no thanks to you!"

She didn't flinch and didn't lower her eyes.

"I couldn't act otherwise, papa. They would have torched the church. I couldn't let all those innocents die and I couldn't let those poor angry souls forfeit forever their redemption."

A tear ran down her cheek.

"I've seen, in Maureen, what a shattered soul looks like."

He took her hands.

"You could be dead, dear," he said through gritted teeth.

"I know," she replied. Her voice was calm and steady, "But I'm not and I refuse to look the other way when I'm in charge!"

"You weren't in charge," tried her father.

"Yes I was!" replied Jane.

She shook her head, shut and opened her eyes a few times and looked her father in the eyes.

"It was my duty, papa. It was my duty to stand up and to stop them. Who else could have done it without causing a bloodbath? We can't just decide that, because there's a risk or because we are afraid, our duty disappears. This world would be utter chaos if everyone just decided that there are more important things than one's duty."

She closed her eyes and took a long deep breath.

"I'm _Madame d'Arcy_, papa, twice countess and manifold baroness. I'm no longer only a gentleman's daughter. I'm the woman whose duty will be measured against the power her husband wields. I can't be less than him. I have to be at least his equal. And I won't fail him!"

Mr. Bennet sighed, shook his head before lifting her hands and kissing them.

Somewhere between Rosings and here his serene, beautiful daughter has morphed into a determined beautiful and fearless wife.

He was quite taken with the result.

* * *

"It just can't be…"

"Call the world a liar and stop fretting, Maureen. You're alive and Doc says that within a few days you'll be up and thriving," said d'Arcy. "I don't care how you felt after being shot and stabbed. It was a lot less dangerous than what you believed, that's all. And now if we could just move on, we have still a lot of Ireland to free."

He kissed her hand, stood up and turned toward the door.

"I'll be back this afternoon. Eat and rest. My wife is on the road to recovery so you'll soon be called to resume your duty". He looked at her and smiled at her. "We need you at your best Maureen." He stopped and shook his head. "No, _I_ need you at your best, Maureen! Only you'll be able to protect her!"

* * *

She smiled in her sleep when he came to lie at her side.

"How are you, _mon amour_?" he whispered in her ear.

She opened her eyes and slowly turned her head.

"I'm hurting, but it is of no importance. I'm also very happy, happy to be alive, happy to know that Maureen will live and even more happy to be able to see you at my side!"

He snickered.

"I notice that you're not in tears."

Her eyes sparkled.

"He wanted to scold me but I wouldn't let him."

"What a pity! I could have taken you in my arms and could have whispered comforting words in your ears."

"Try and do the same with loving words; I think I'd prefer that."

He very carefully snuggled her against him and did just that.

She first made a face without complaining and soon her smile was back, tenfold as beautiful.

"You do remember that it is quite a long time ago since I was able to lift you into the higher spheres of blissful love making."

"I do, love, but having a hole in one's shoulder is a rather efficient repellant to too much exercise! I'm sorry!" She sighed. "So am I, _mon amour_. So am I. But I'm also so happy to have you alive in my arms."

She stretched to be able to put a light kiss on his nose.

"I'm sorry, and I do long after our nightly bouts, but even lying in your arms is hurtful."

He tried to move but she stopped him immediately.

"It hurts, but it is also the only thing I want just now, so please stay with me and go on holding me."

He did as asked and soon he dozed away, his nostrils full of her marvelous fragrance.

* * *

After an hour he awoke. She brushed his brow with a kiss.

"Better?"

"Much. You can't imagine how wearing it is to be crazy with worry."

"Sorry for that, love. But…"

He hushed her with a kiss.

"No need, I do understand even if I'm scared to death by my wife's reckless behavior."

She decided that she wasn't ready to follow that path! It was time to choose a more benign topic.

"How's the invasion?"

He looked at her, the message clear that it would nevertheless be a topic in the future.

For now he accepted the change of topic.

"It's proceeding. Dublin, Kildare and Meath are under our rule. Wicklow is being secured by Bessières' cavalry just as we speak. My engineers are working like mad reconstructing what I destroyed a few days ago. The five spare guns I brought with me will be installed within the next days. With half the menfolk of Dublin lending a hand, it won't take very long to secure Dublin's fortifications."

"The English troops?"

"Those in Dublin surrendered without firing a shot. A courier went to Glasgow yesterday to signal to our allies that we have a few thousand Scotsmen in our custody."

"And what about the Irish?"

He laughed, being careful not to hurt her with uncontrolled movements.

"They are very quiet and very subdued. The news that my wife –my pregnant wife–was injured while trying to stop a resentful Irish mob did quite a lot to calm their vengefulness. I do believe that you succeeded quite well in smothering the bloodthirstiness of even the most radical Irish freedom fighters in a two hundred miles radius. For now, they are very obedient and very careful not to ignite anew my ire."

"And as usual you are going to make it your mission to give me the good role in the play."

"No need, my love. Thanks to your _reckless…_" she heard the unsaid reproach, but didn't react. "stunt and Maureen's selfless acceptance of martyrdom you both already have all the attributes of sainthood. The Irish love you because you stopped their hotheads before committing an ugly crime and the English love you because you stopped the Irish burning them alive. For once you did it all alone."

"What will happen next?"

"I don't know" said d'Arcy.

She turned her head and he could see disbelief in her eyes.

"Really, I don't know. This trip was as well prepared as everything I undertake but the local situation is difficult. The Irish have a real leadership problem here. They have too many candidates and too little willingness to reach a compromise. Thanks to your action and your injury I do believe I was able to get one very clear message to every would-be freedom fighter leader. They know now that I won't accept wanton murdering of civilians or troops who have surrendered. And I have let it be known, in no uncertain words, that those who carry out anything that could be looked at as a crime will have the pleasure to face my hangman! After having been judged and found guilty."

Jane nodded and smiled at her husband.

She could see the lines of worry on his handsome face. She knew that, for some of them, she was. But she also knew that what she had done was what had to be done. She really hoped her husband's threats would be enough. Maureen had been the living proof that hatred and lust for revenge could destroy and pollute even the most gentle soul.

"We will have to judge also the crimes of the British" she said finally. "There will only be forgiveness if everybody knows that justice has been brought to all parties involved."

He looked at her with surprise in the eyes.

"Don't look at me like that; I don't ask for mass executions, love. I ask for unbiased trials where those who committed crimes will be able to explain why they did what they did. I don't doubt that we will find quite a lot of sadists who enjoyed killing and maiming. But those will be a minority. Most of the others will be able to show that they had no real choice. And they will also be able to state their regrets and ask for forgiveness. And that last point is even more important than the rest. We need England and Ireland able to look in each other's eyes in order to get over the last two centuries."

He nodded while thinking about what his wife had just said.

There were more than fifty judges with his Armies. French and English judges. And there would be trials. A lot of trials. As many trials as necessary to burn out Ireland's festering flesh.

But these trials would have to wait. He needed to finish his current military campaign before and he had, if he was lucky and his guests smart enough to see their overall interest, the means to end it even more easily than the previous one.

He sighed and began to wriggle out of her arms.

"You won't stay?" asked Jane.

He shook his head.

"No, there's still a lot to do. And since you're in no shape to respond to what I would like to do to you, I prefer quitting and let you recover your strength. Hopefully, I'll be able to slip into our bed in a few hours. I'll let you sleep."

"If I sleep…"

"We'll see, love. We'll see!"

He kissed her, let his fingers play with her golden hairs and then, in a dash, stood up and hurried away.

* * *

**Next Chapter : State Negotiations**


	5. State Negotiations

**Chapter Five: State Negotiations**

* * *

**Kilkea Castle, Friday the 22nd of September**

* * *

"You took your time."

"Quite a workload, such an invasion" answered d'Arcy while sipping a glass of red wine. "I had to calm down my Irish allies. They were quite upset and out for blood."

"English blood I suppose," sighed the Crown Prince. "Did they kill a lot?"

"Twenty two soldiers, three officers and a family of five with their household. Thirty nine people all in all. Forty seven if I include the Irish my men had to kill to stop them."

"You can't be serious," said the King. "No way there's only forty seven dead in Dublin these last hours. Your bombing alone must have killed hundreds…"

"Indeed I didn't include the soldiers my carronades killed. Those included, the taking and the pacification of Dublin has cost one hundred and seventy two persons. There are a few hundred more injured soldiers but my medical staff is sure that they'll all survive."

George III just shook his head, unconvinced. He would wait and see what this d'Arcy was about to propose.

D'Arcy looked him in the eyes.

"What's your prognosis for Ireland, Your Majesty?"

"Is this a joke?" burst out the still King of England and Ireland.

"No joke, Your Majesty. It is just a simple question asking for an honest answer. You were quite renowned for your insight, before…"

The King snickered.

"Yes, before, _always_ before. Now I'm just renowned for my lapses."

"It seems to me that you're quite normal just now. So what's your prognosis for Ireland, Your Majesty? And please be sure that there is a very good reason to ask you said question."

George looked at his son who just shrugged.

"We've lost Ireland. Depending on the troops you have and the number of rebellious Irishmen which stand up to join you, the last of us is driven out of Ireland within the month."

D'Arcy shook his head.

"Nobody will be driven out if I have a say in this matter." His eyes darkened. "And be sure that I have a say in this matter! Those who want to stay will be free to stay. There will not be a witch-hunt against British or foreign residents."

He put his glass on the table and stood.

"Don't misunderstand me. We won't force our Irish allies to shut up and forgive. There will be trials when necessary. If we got our hands on Holt, for instance, he would get a trial and it would be a fair one, but even with a fair one he is sure to be hanged. And most of his officers will hang beside him. I have a few hundred of his victims serving in my armies. They would be very willing to witness what was done in Raghlar a few years ago. And they won't need to lie to get a guilty sentence, believe me!"

He looked at the King.

"I know you gave the orders to 'pacify' Ireland. You didn't give specific orders to torture and rape but if I recall you did nothing to make them stop."

"So you'll have a trial ready for me too?"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"No, no trial for you or for any member of your family. It would be counterproductive. I can't take the risk to let you gather compassion as victims. You're too good as scapegoats to risk that peculiar image. Depending on what comes out of our little exchange, I'll decide what to do with you. Either I'll make you disappear or I'll let you go on running. And since running will give you an even more appalling image, I'll probably let you run… It'll give me a reason to follow up!"

It was his turn to sigh.

"Back to Ireland's conquest. I guarantee that those who have been correct with their Irish underlings will have the choice to stay if they want. Or to go somewhere else, if they'd prefer."

The Crown Prince burst out a laugh.

"Seems we'll soon have a lot of colonists to settle in Canada."

D'Arcy shot him a chilly glance.

"Canada is next on my list!"

"You're out to destroy us, d'Arcy?"

"If I have no other choice, that's exactly what I'll do. If necessary I'll go to India to root out the last of your forces. I'm quite sure the local Princes would be very interested in gaining a new ally."

The King stood up and walked toward d'Arcy. He stopped at less than a yard.

"Why are you here? To boast about your achievements?"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"I'm here to ask you a question, the sole important question of the night. And I won't let it lie before I have my answer."

"What's the question," asked the King.

D'Arcy let a smile adorn his face.

"What are you ready to sacrifice to get England back?"

The Crown Prince wasn't sure he had heard correctly. Why?

He could barely resist to standing up. Only his weight forced him to stay in his armchair. A frown appeared on his face. The King just went on looking at d'Arcy.

"What do you mean: 'get England back'?" asked the King.

D'Arcy's smile disappeared.

"As in: returning to France with all my armies and giving the sovereignty of the land back to an English Monarch."

"And what would be your conditions?"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"I won't say a word more. You know my side of the deal. I'll let you think about what you are willing to propose in exchange. Be very aware that there won't be any negotiation. I'll take it or leave it. No third choice."

He took a long and noisy breath.

"I'm in no hurry, take your time. I'll wait for your offer. If I agree with it, I'll accept, we'll draft the treaty, we'll sign, and if the voters approve I will hand the keys of all of England to the new ruler and I take my men somewhere else where their military expertise is needed."

He bowed, turned around and walked toward the heavy guarded door.

He looked at father and son just before opening the door.

"If your offer is not agreeable, I'll just go on with my campaign. As I see it, next year, I'll crush what's left of your armies in America, free French Canada and provide a little logistic help to our new Indian friends. Then you'll be reduced to a few foreign colonies to support a way too important fleet for so small an empire. In those dire circumstances how long will you be able to maintain your proud Navy?"

Just before shutting the door he looked at them.

"As last bit of advice, if I were you I would sell my ships promptly. This year they are still worth a lot and quite a few countries –_try Austria first I'm sure they are willing to buy as much as possible_– will still agree to pay a handsome price for what seems to be state of the art shipbuilding. Next year the whole world will know that France has developed new ships and new naval tactics against whom the old ships will be obsolete and useless." He shot them a merciless look. "And believe me, if we don't come to an agreement, you'll need all the money you can get just to survive a few years more. Because it is my experience that the old injured tiger attracts every cowardly scavenger of the forest."

* * *

Next chapter: Family Business


	6. Family Business

**Chapter Six: Family Business**

* * *

**Kilkea Castle, Saturday the 23rd of September**

* * *

"I hate that man," cursed the Prince of Wales.

"He is hateful," agreed his father. "But he also says very interesting things and I do believe his advice is sound."

"I won't sell our Navy," exploded the Crown Prince. "Without it we're just dead."

His father just shook his head and made a face.

"As usual you only heard what was said. If we don't sell our ships promptly they will be useless _and_ worthless. But if we get England back and sell them we'll be able to build an entire new fleet, an entire new _modern_ fleet."

He looked at his son.

"You said we have the know-how, didn't you?"

"Yes," agreed the Duke of Wales. "We have the knowledge and the craftsmanship." He snorted and corrected. "We _had_ it two months ago…"

"Good," smiled the King. "And since the best officers and sailors in the world will still be ours, we should be able to recreate our Navy."

"But father, he threatened us…"

"Indeed he did, but you must acknowledge that his threats were rather elegant ones. I like smart and elegant, son. I like it very much."

He looked his son in the eyes.

"Now please forget that you're upset and hungry and use your mind for once! I have perhaps only a few minutes of sanity left. I want to get the most out of those minutes!"

The Crown Prince nodded and shot a suspicious glance around the room. He signaled madly with his eyebrows.

"Stop that immediately! You're just silly son! Of course they are listening! He would be the biggest idiot in the world not to have faithful ears spying on us. But that will be to our advantage. He said he won't negotiate. That's for the record and I'm sure Napoleon will agree with his hardcore approach. But it could be that since he will be following all our conversations hour after hour he will have an exhaustive knowledge of what we agree to –as he said it– sacrifice."

"And?"

"Well, he's a busy man with lots of responsibilities and he won't have a lot of time to lose. So it's more than likely that he will only come when we have an offer with to which he could agree."

The Crown Prince could only accept his father's explanations.

Indeed it could be done that way.

And indeed it was probably exactly the way d'Arcy wanted it to be.

"I hate it when he manipulates me in that manner," he grumbled.

He breathed heavily.

"Alright, father, let's begin: let them have French Canada back."

George III smiled at his son.

"Good first move, son, good first move. And what's even more interesting with French Canada out of the game Napoleon will probably be more intractable to grant him an oversea expedition and we will probably be able to save the more western Canadian territories."

"Which could upset d'Arcy and push him into refusing our first offer."

The King smiled at his son. From time to time he had a finely honed mind.

"Son, you're right, but I fear you haven't thought over the whole of his proposition. Let's just cut it into small easy to understand pieces."

He sat down and poured himself another cup of wine.

"What's the most surprising part of his offer?"

George the future fourth frowned before speaking. "To propose to give us England back?"

"Yes, and no, son. He didn't propose to give _us_ England back."

"Ooh, yes, you're right. He spoke of giving it back to a new ruler." He made a face. "It seems that d'Arcy doesn't want us any longer on the Throne! Could it be that he doesn't like us?"

"He's not the only one," shrugged his father. "And I must insist that I, while in possession of all my wits, was well liked, son. It's you who are rather unpopular."

"Frederick is even more hated," said the Crown Prince.

His father didn't accept the bait.

"And of course a shrewd politician like d'Arcy will include that fact into his thinking. It would be unpopular to hand the Throne back to you so he won't do it."

"Would he lust after a Kingship?"

The King made a face to show that he wasn't convinced.

"I'm not sure. It's possible, but we must include the Corsican in our thought process. How do you believe would he react if d'Arcy pushed us into giving him our Kingdom?"

"Badly I suppose. He seems to be a rather petty man."

The crown prince scratched his sprouting beard.

"He could propose Darcy. He wouldn't be on the Throne but the next Dynasty would be his family."

The King shook his head.

"No, Darcy won't accept. He isn't interested in a Kingdom. If he had been attracted to that kind of business he wouldn't have demanded such off-the-wall conditions to accept the Welsh Throne. And what's more he is loyal to our crown; accepting would be seen by him as dishonorable. No, we can exclude him."

"Matlock?"

"Could be" agreed his father. "Good family, quite a lot of friends in the Gentry and more or less on the conservative side of the House. The gentry could follow… But I doubt he would accept. He knows that the Peers would be reluctant. One doesn't mount the Throne without the acceptance of the House…"

"Could it be that we are free to propose who we think should reign…"

"It would be smarter, for England and for us, to give that choice to the Houses. Let's include in our proposition that we renounce to the Throne and that we give the task to choose a new worthier dynasty to the Parliament."

"The worthier part is rather foul-tasting," whined the Crown Prince.

"We have been thrown out of our Palace twice, son. That could be considered unworthy. And since none of my unfit sons have been able to produce a male heir, we aren't going to lose very much in the bargain. It could even be considered good policy to be those who proposed a change of dynasty."

The king took a piece of paper and began to write down the results of their brainstorming. Better to take a certain number of precautions. One wouldn't want that certain decisions just got forgotten.

"And we have an advantage, son, a great advantage we would be fools not to use."

"Which one?"

"As you said, he _wants_ to give England back!"

George the son nodded with emphasis.

"Indeed that's really the most astounding point. Why would he do such a thing?"

The King snickered.

"_Cherchez la femme_, as they say in France. I suppose it pains his wife to see England under the French yoke. And since he cannot just retreat without a good reason he needs a way to give it back while making a political profit. So he lets us find a way to get England back without losing face or political clout."

The Prince of Wales could only nod.

"Yes, you are probably right, father. It could really be because of her. I've seen his eyes when he was speaking about her. He was compelled."

"Good for England, then." Said the King while writing busily! "Thank her next time you see her."

George stared at his father who wasn't even taking notice.

It was like old times when his father was normal. He forced himself to remain calm. I times past when his father was sane and healthy, he wasn't worth the King's attention. It was as if is eldest son had been dismissed once and for all.

He forced himself to smother his anger. No need to complain that his father didn't treat him like the heir. As it seemed he no longer was one.

_Think, man… What else could he want_?

Something sprang to his mind. Of course, he would want them to respect his belongings.

"What about his investments?" asked the Crown Prince.

"What about his investments?" repeated his father.

"He and his company have invested huge sums in the English economy. He probably doesn't want to lose said investments."

"This company of his is chartered under private law, isn't it?"

"Indeed."

"And no English subject has been pilfered by said company?"

"No, the company was created respecting French and English law and the company's Capital stems mostly from English investors who agreed to join said company."

He made a contemptuous noise.

"Not so with d'Arcy's part in the capital. Even if everybody –_the French Consuls included_– suspects d'Arcy to have been able to get to our sunken Gold, we have no proof that his part of the investments comes from said gold hoard. He is a very rich man in his own right. He got back nearly all of the Estates his extended family lost during the Revolution. He could probably get twice the sums he invested by mortgaging half his Estates. Not that he mortgages anything at all."

"Well, lucky him!" answered his father. "So we just put into the treaty a clause about the necessary respect of lawful private property and everything should be covered."

He wrote a side note.

"I think we have everything covered" said he finally.

"What about our involvement in the present and coming European warfare?" asked his son.

Those words got him a fatherly reaction.

"You're right, son. What about our involvement? Do we play it neutral or do we play it allied?"

"Shouldn't it be the new King and the Parliament to decide such matters?"

The King nodded.

"It should, but he won't accept such a stalling tactic. He will perhaps accept neutrality but that's the least he will want." The King looked up while making a face.

"And anyway neutrality is probably the only thing we'll be able to afford. What with our gold sunken somewhere in the channel!"

He scribbled a new paragraph and lifted the sheet of paper.

"That's it, son. This is probably a good base to get his attention."

He shook the sheet of paper under his son's nose.

"Let me sum it up! First: the House of Hannover abdicates and passes on to the Parliament the burden of finding a new King. Second: French Canada goes back to France. Third: the Crown seeks peace with everybody we are at war with. We can't be more precise for the time being. I'm quite sure something will come up."

"We should think about a military alliance, father. We chose to fight the Revolution but it seems to me that the revolution is no longer at the center of Napoleon's action. He's out to build himself an Empire. As we do–"

"Do you believe d'Arcy would accept a military alliance with us?" George III interrupts.

"Yesterday I would have doubted it. No longer today! Considering what he just proposed it could be in our interest to change our policy. They have the means to crush any army on land and we have –or will have–the means to crush any fleet on sea. It would be the perfect alliance. With them at our side we could still build the British Empire!"

"It could be, but I would prefer to let the next King making that decision! Be it only to be able to sell our fleet with profit. While we are neutral and broke, every Nation will understand that we sell to the highest bidder! If we take sides it would be suspicious to sell ships of the line to enemies and it would be bad business to sell obsolete ships to partners."

"You are right, father, as usual!"

_When sane._… He hadn't said it aloud, but he was sure it was heard.

The King acknowledged both his son's compliment and hidden warning. "Do we agree that this is our proposition?"

"If you include the private law clause it should cover everything we can sacrifice. But will it be enough?"

George the younger closed his eyes and made a quick sum-up of the situation.

"We say nothing about Ireland?"

"No, it would be too much. If we lose it by means of a military defeat, nobody will reproach us its independence. If we include it in the bargain there will be those who would pretend that we could have saved it. Let him take it the hard way. For us it will be a defeat all the same but it won't stink of treason."

* * *

**Coming next**: Darcy Family Meeting in London


	7. Family meetings

**Chapter Seven: Family Meetings**

* * *

**London, Darcy Town House, Saturday the 23rd of September**

* * *

Anne de Bourgh looked at her mother's joyous preparations with a rather surprised eye.

"I must confess, Mama, that I'm rather amazed by your good humor. I would have sworn that being summoned by Fitzwilliam on such short notice would have irritated you."

Her mother looked up with a rather satisfied smile.

"Dear, do not doubt that, first thing after our arrival, I'll let Fitzwilliam know –in no uncertain terms– that I' m not pleased with his manners nor his summon." Her smile became ecstatic. "And I won't fail to remark that before his wedding never would he have been so ruthless with his poor aunt."

Anne looked at the heavens.

"And you'll be within seconds in a fight with Elizabeth! You should–"

"Say nothing more, dear! I'm prepared! Have no doubt that this time I'll have the upper hand."

Anne stopped what she was doing and looked her mother in the eyes.

"You are enjoying them, aren't you?"

Her mother looked at her with a feigned surprise all over her face.

"Them? What are you speaking of, dear?"

"I'm speaking about your fights with Elizabeth, as you know very well, Mama! You are already rehearsing your part. Don't deny it; you've that mischievous sparkle in your eyes."

Catherine de Bourgh looked at her daughter and pondered her next answer. Should she just deny or say the truth?

She opted for the truth. And that was a pleasure in its own right.

"Indeed, you're right. I'm enjoying them." She shook her head. "She is an impertinent shrew, but she's the only one of our acquaintances who has the guts to oppose me!" A smile lighted her features. "And I feel so much more alive when we fight."

Anne snorted.

"And I know that one day I'll be able to prove to the world that Fitzwilliam has married a common fisherwoman. Last time she was at the brink of hitting me. I wonder if, next time, I'll be able to push her to strike me."

Anne could only shake her head.

"She would never do such a thing, Mama. She's a gentleman's daughter and her upbringing is–"

"Of a dubious quality," interrupted her mother. "You'll see. Someday I'll push her into striking me."

"And to what effect?"

"To what effect?" shouted her mother gesticulating with her walking stick. "To strike back of course! I'm a Peer of the Kingdom and I'd never lower myself to strike anybody… first! But if she strikes me first, she's in for a big surprise!"

She banged her walking stick on the ground and her smile was back.

"Let's go, battle awaits us."

* * *

George Darcy, having quit the Town House early this morning, was the only member of the family not present.

The general, the ladies de Bourgh, Fitzwilliam, Georgiana, Catherine and Elizabeth were already sitting in the blue parlor when Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner in company of Charles Bingley –_the only guest invited_– were introduced by the butler.

Fitzwilliam stood, embraced his aunt, shook hands with his uncle and welcomed his friend.

"Thanks for finding the time to come. I couldn't be very specific in my invitation but it is very important for me to have you all here in order to give me your opinion." He looked them all in the eyes. "And I mean it. I need your opinion."

He sighed and went to the table where a few letters and a fancy scroll were lying.

He took the scroll and enrolled it.

"I'll read this first and then you'll be free to speak your heart about this," he hesitated, "this event."

_"We_," read Darcy "and here's a list of the fifty two names of all the members of Parliament representing Wales in the Houses, _the representatives of the Kingdom of Wales avow unanimously our acceptance of the conditions presented by Fitzwilliam Darcy to access the Throne of Wales. Said conditions having been accepted we are asking said Fitzwilliam Darcy to honor his pledge and to come to Cardiff to be crowned as the first King of United Wales_."

He stopped reading and there was a long silence in the room.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh was the first to snap out of the stunned silence.

"Well, when do we leave? Best would be to charter a ship." She looked at Mr. Gardiner. "You are in trade, I believe, you'll probably be best suited to such an endeavor. Please do make the necessary arrangements." She frowned as if concentrating. "By sea, we could be in Cardiff next Tuesday. And the coronation could take place next Sunday." She shot a glance to Elizabeth who has been as surprised as the rest of the assembly by Lady Catherine's comment and opened the mouth to deliver her first well-rehearsed attack when her daughter interrupted her.

"I do fear that it's a little more complicated than that, Mother." She looked at Darcy. "If you've asked us, it's not just to inform us, is it? You want us to help you refuse…"

That changed her mother's target immediately.

"Refuse? What is there to refuse? Fitzwilliam has already accepted under conditions. Since the honorable members of the Parliament have avowed said conditions, there's nothing left to refuse!"

"Yes, there i–" began Elizabeth before being interrupted by Anne.

"Could we, please, before the next fight erupts between you and my mother, just all state our opinion? Just to know who believes Fitzwilliam should accept, refuse or who has no preference at all. She looked Elizabeth in the eyes.

"I suppose you're opposed…"

Lizzy just shook her head.

"I'll follow Fitzwilliam whatever he decides. But I have my doubts."

"And so you should because becoming Qu–"

"Mother, please! Fitzwilliam is married to Elizabeth and if you support him as King you will have no choice but to support her as Queen."

"There could hav–"

"Mother!"

That time Lady de Bourgh stopped protesting. Her –_venomous_– glance toward Elizabeth being her last volley, for the time being.

Anne turned and looked at her cousin.

"Richard?"

"I say he should take the Throne and rule Wales till there's a renewed possibility to re-create the United Kingdom. With him at the ruder there's a good chance that it will be a real possibility."

Anne acknowledged his opinion and looked at Georgiana.

Who made a face and whose eyes apologized immediately.

"I would rather not, Fitzwilliam. I'm already scared just being d'Arcy's sister. The day you're crowned I'll be a King's sister and I really don't believe I'm cut in the right stuff to be–"

"Nonsense," barked Lady de Bourgh. "You're the perfect embodiment of a young well-behaved female member of the aristocracy. _You,_" –she insisted on the pronoun– "would not be the shame of the family."

Elizabeth didn't react and Anne shot her glance conveying her gratitude.

"Catherine?"

Kitty could just smile and beam at her brother.

"In my opinion, nobody's better suited than Fitzwilliam to be King. King of England would have been better, but let's begin with Wales, the rest is not to be definitively excluded."

To everyone's surprise that got her applause from Lady Catherine.

"I concur! Well said young Lady! And we'll do what we can to achieve just said results."

Since nobody took the stage immediately after her she allowed herself on last shot. She looked at Fitzwilliam and shook her head.

"I can't understand why you hesitate, nephew! Wouldn't it be your wife's bad inf–"

"That's quite enough, Mamma," interrupted Anne with quite a Lady de Bourgh voice. "Nobody ignores your feelings about Fitzwilliam's wife and this is not the moment to dwell on it!"

"You could have been Queen…" protested her mother.

"As I have said quite a number of times, Mamma, I refuse to die in Childbed. And even had I known that Fitzwilliam would one day be offered such honor I still would have refused to marry him." She shot said Fitzwilliam a warm smile. "Not because of him but because of me!"

She took advantage of the loll in the debate to look at Mr. Gardiner.

"Your opinion, Sir?"

"No doubt from me, your Grace. He has the ethics to be the best of Kings and if he finds in himself the courage to embrace that career he will be a great Monarch."

He looked at Fitzwilliam.

"But, son, if you have the least doubt about your aptness to be a ruler, be honest with yourself and refuse. I know you have it in you to be the best of rulers, but without the will to transform yourself into a ruler you'll only lose yourself in what is not supposed to be yours." He shook his head. "Don't forget that to rule means often making difficult decisions, which will impact all your subjects' lives. I know that you are a man who cares. A ruler has, from time to time, no longer the opportunity to care. Are you ready to do what's always necessary?"

Fitzwilliam could only nod. He knew his uncle was right, but he just didn't know if he would be proficient…

It was Mr. Gardiner's wife's turn to speak.

"I have no doubt at all, Fitzwilliam. You have the ethics and the inner strength to not just be a ruler, but to be a just ruler. Make Wales a gift and accept."

Anne looked at Bingley who smiled at her.

"If my count is good we have five votes in favor, one against with force, two against with reluctance and you and me who have not yet given our opinion." He chuckled and walked toward Fitzwilliam. "So I believe you're already outvoted since I do rely on Miss de Bourgh being very much in favor of your Kingship. So having no real importance in the debate and no skill in choosing a King I'll speak as your friend, Fitzwilliam. I know you, Fitzwilliam Darcy! I know that you are tremendously smart about everything, but yourself. And, till recently" he bowed toward Elizabeth, "you had the social skills of a boar. Not the best mix to become a successful dandy, but quite, in my opinion, a good mix to be a cautious and mindful ruler. But that's not why you are going to accept, Fitzwilliam. You are not going to accept because you are the best, which is nevertheless the case. No, you are going to accept because as Mr. Gardiner has quoted, you care. You care about your people, you care about the People and since they made you that proposition you care about the People of Wales. And you know that there's nobody out there who cares as much as you do. There's nobody out there who, in your opinion –and mine if you want to know–, is deserving enough to take the role of a ruler into his hands. And that's why, in the end, thrashing and screaming you'll take that Crown!" He embraced his friend. "Congratulations, Your Majesty! I always knew that someday you'd achieve something"

His last remark had the awaited result. They all laughed aloud.

* * *

"They believe in you…" said Elizabeth.

"And they are fools to do it!" answered Fitzwilliam Darcy while dwelling in self-doubts and unanswered questions.

"They know you, that's all," insisted Elizabeth. "You've given enough proof all your life that you are a perfect manager. Managing a Kingdom is not so different than managing Pemberley."

"I'm not ready."

"You weren't ready to take over at your father's death and though you did it and you did it well. You weren't ready to be your sister's guardian and nevertheless you managed to give her a better education than most other parents."

"She's shy."

"As are you, Fitzwilliam! You gave her everything you could and her shyness is the only fault you'll ever find in her education. And in my opinion to be shy is a fault only if, like some gentleman I remember, you refuse to practice surmounting it…"

"I do practice…" said he with a smile.

"So does she and very soon she'll overcome her shyness to become a very brave, but cautious lady. And that's a real quality in a ruler's sister!"

"Do you want me King of Wales?"

"I want you happy, love. And I know that you'll do your best to be a good King, but that you'll always wonder if they shouldn't have chosen a better man than you. As you wonder daily if, had your father lived, Pemberley wouldn't have been better managed." She bowed to brush his lips with a kiss. "You'll never be sure, but since it never stopped you doing what was best for your tenants, I'm sure it will never stop you doing what's best for your People."

* * *

"You look rather pleased with yourself Mother. I should have thought that you would be cross. We didn't let you have the fight you hoped for…"

"We fought, don't believe the contrary. It's wasn't as bloody as usual but it was quite a good fight. All in glances snarls and subdued threats. She's quite subtle in her country maiden way. Yes, it was quite satisfying indeed. We will have other occasions. I never had a shouting match with a Queen. That will be a first."

She smiled at her daughter.

"And the whole rest was even more satisfying."

"The family you mean."

"Not only, dear. Young Bingley was quite a revelation too. What a charming and smart young man. But you are right the extended family we've got was indeed a very good surprise."

"And because you were satisfied with them you treated them like they were servants…"

"We wouldn't want to be considered as an old sympathetic aunt, would we?"

Anne shook her head and went back to her mail, interesting Irish mail.

"We do have an Estate in Wales, haven't we?" asked her mother finally.

Anne looked up.

"Three actually, Mother."

"Which one's the biggest?"

"Cai Newydd I suppose. Why?"

"I suppose we could move there. And we will have to buy a Town House in Cardiff…"

"With what money, Mother? We live on two little allowances."

"We'll have to ask our French cousin to do it for us, that's all. Better, we will use his. He'll need one."

"If they go to Cardiff, I suppose they'll live at the Castle. Jane and Elizabeth are quite near, you know."

"Indeed I know. I'm not senile and even if I don't have your spy ring I do have people who bring me news."

_Oh, oh… Here it's coming.…_

"News?" asked Anne.

"News!" said her mother. "News about Rosings. And to be more precise about Rosings' staff."

Anne sighed. It had to happen one day. Better today when her mother was in a good mood.

She turned to look at her mother.

"I'm not cross," said her mother. "Really, I'm not. I'm not happy, but I'm not cross. In a certain way I can't deny that I had it coming."

She looked her daughter in the eyes.

"I was angry when I read the letter. I was even very angry. But then I tried to get everything into the right perspective. About us and our old and new relationship. I'm an old woman and my foul mood isn't helping me be in better health. Sooner or later I'm going to pass away. And that day you'll be Head of the de Bourgh Estates. And as it looks you'll have no problems managing everything. It's better than doing it in a hurry and without being properly prepared." She sighed. "But I'm not yet dead and even if I did stifle you for quite a few years I don't need to be constrained."

Anne's eyes became very hard.

"Neither did I."

Catherine de Bourgh could only nod.

"In hindsight I agree," she said. "But I believed you ill!"

"I was ill, but you believed me incompetent. And you used my illness to patronize me."

"I wanted to protect you!"

"By detaining me in my own house?"

"It was my house and I already said that I made mistakes," admitted her mother. "I see it now."

"Because I treat you like you treated me?"

"I'm not ill."

"No, but you're old and frail and your health is not the best. You too need to be protected."

They looked at each other for quite a while and like often these last weeks it was the mother who gave in.

She sighed.

"Well I'm listening. What's the deal?"

"I take over" answered Anne without the hint of hesitation. "And I grant you a doubled allowance while paying for all your normal expenses."

"I'll do what I want with my allowance? No bickering, no control?"

"My word that I won't even look at what you do with your money."

"And I can rid of the swarm of medical locusts you hired?"

"One Doctor and one nurse stay," answered Anne with flint in her eyes. "We both need them Mama. They weren't here only to assert my authority. They are needed!"

Lady de Bourgh gave in. She would never agree aloud, but Anne was right. They were needed and useful. They were both in better health than ever before.

"And I can return to Rosings?"

"As soon as the work teams are out of the building."

"Work teams? What work teams?"

Anne didn't answer and just looked her mother in the eyes.

Soon she gave in.

"When then?"

"Around the middle of October. The whole building will be modernized by then."

"Modernized? Why? It was perfect as it was! Not to speak of the costs…"

"D'Arcy paid," said Anne without looking from her desk.

"Indeed if d'Arcy paid, who am I to complain," complained her mother.

But Anne was no longer listening. She was writing to their lawyer. He was needed. Now!

* * *

Coming Next: Sisterhood


	8. Sisterhood and Bliss Renewed

**Chapter Eight: Sisterhood and Bliss Renewed**

* * *

**Dublin, Dublin Castle, Sunday the 24th of September**

* * *

"Your Grace," said Jane to her unexpected visitor.

"Madame d'Arcy," answered the Duchess. "I came as soon as I learned of your little encounter with an angry Irish mob."

"That was four days ago," hinted Jane, "and even if the news went out immediately after the "incident", it couldn't have gotten to you before Friday. That's two days to learn about my injury, organize the journey and arrive. You can't fly, can you?"

Lady Waintree answered with a smile.

"That's an answer only for members of the Sisterhood, _madame_ d'Arcy! Are you interested in applying?" She smiled again. And for once her eyes didn't belie her features."Be sure that the Sisterhood is interested in your joining us. We would be richer for your presence."

"I'd never–" began Jane before being interrupted by her guest.

"Don't say anything before you have listened to what I have to say. It is a long story, our history. And it is important for you to know the truth."

"The truth, Your Grace," said Jane, "truth is such a fickle beast. One's truth is another's deceit."

"I agree, _madame_, I agree. Let's say it is the truth I believe in! Would that suit you better?"

Jane nodded."I believe it would."

The smile came back and the Duchess bent over to get a little leather case with a handle from under her chair.

"This is a gift for you," she said while handing it over. "Please open it."

Jane did as she was told and soon looked on two dozen blue vials.

"I believe the last one was used to save your bodyguard's life. You have now the proof that they are what I said they would be. And I don't doubt that you'll have plenty of uses for them."She looked Jane in the eyes." I know it's not enough to save everybody, but they are very difficult to brew. You need a lot of very rare ingredients and –as you very well know– brewing an herbal mixture is a very delicate and time consuming process."

Jane frowned."You know quite a lot about me."

"I was very thorough in my inquiries," answered the Duchess. "I had to be, it's the first time in the twenty two years I've been in charge of the Sisterhood that I witnessed a branch with such strength as yours. Nobody alive has ever heard of such before. And I'm quite sure that the archives are void of a similar event. I had to know and so I visited a few locations where you had lived. Mrs. Hill was a great help." The Duchess smiled. "She's quite taken with you and she never doubted my little story about being a midwife myself."

"You lied to her."

"No," answered the Duchess. "I am a midwife. When we met in London, that's all I said to her. Of course I have methods to lessen people's distrust against me. They are useful, but Mrs. Hill loves to speak about you, I didn't need to push her!" Her eyes became hard as flint. "But let's be very frank here: if necessary I would have lied! I needed answers and I needed them fast."

The Duchess sighed.

"And I must confess that I was –I am– very impressed with what you did. I would never have thought that one alone could rediscover so much."

Jane shook her head and sat up a little more. Her few movements brought a grimace on her face.

"You probably don't know it but it's foolish to go on suffering while you have everything needed to make it stop…"

Jane looked surprised.

"I won't take more drugs than necessary. Laudanum makes me drowsy and forgetful."

"I'm not speaking about drugs, dear. I'm speaking about what you are able to do to yourself if you just know how to do it."

"Do to myself?"

The Duchess nodded, stood up and placed her chair a few yards from the bed. Jane frowned at her movement.

"What do you know about me, dear?" asked the Duchess.

"Geoffrey talked with me about you."

"No surprise there," grinned the Duchess. "I knew he would do it."

"And he was, as I am, quite suspicious of your motives."

"Well that's easy to answer: my motives are survival, plain and simple survival. Survival of the members of the Sisterhood and, perhaps even more importantly, of the knowledge we share between us."

"Witchcraft," whispered Jane.

"That's the name our enemies give to it, yes. And it's them who call us witches. As you know it's the winner who writes history and when men snatched power from our hands to become the ruling sex they slandered us, the old followers of the Earth Magic, as witches and evildoers. We had to hide or they would have killed all of us." She snickered. "And they got what they wanted. If you're already branded as an evil creature and treated as such when captured, why hesitate? It's so much easier to walk on the Dark Path to survive. Most of us chose to wade into evilness just to take revenge on them."

"But not you," said Jane. "You and your Sisterhood are those few adepts who chose the Path of Light."

The Duchess didn't flinch.

"No we are not, dear! The Sisterhood survived, didn't it? There is no Path of Light left. Perhaps there never was. How should I know? I'm the Great Priestess of the Dark Path, the Path that teaches how to survive in a world where men want you dead and you have only one choice: you do what must be done. Those who hesitated or who believed in men's goodness died. Drowned or burned alive. Proving by dying that they were too weak to make the safe decision to use all means necessary to get what you want, need or lust for." She looked Jane in the eyes. "That's the only way to survive when the society as a whole wants you dead."

Jane shook her head.

"I won't follow you. Never."

"I know, dear, I know. And I'm not here to recruit you," she snickered once more. "I don't need to recruit you. You've already recruited yourself. I'm here to lure you into becoming even more yourself."

She pointed toward the leather case.

"Witchcraft is a tool, my dear Jane. You can use it as you use a hammer, to build or to shatter, to nail a man to a cross or a board to a joist. It's the man or in this matter the woman who decides how the tool will be used."

She smiled a perfect loving smile.

"I'm here to propose teaching you how to use those tools. And I'm here to hand out a challenge. I claim that the Light Path can't be revived and that after having learned all I can teach you you'll be a Sister in our Sisterhood." Her smile grew. "And my heir."

She stood and smiled at Jane.

"I won't ask you to take up the challenge immediately. I'll let you speak with your husband and every other person you have enough faith in to believe that he/she won't hand you over to the priests to be burned."

She nodded.

"Before leaving I'll have to give you the proof that what I'm talking about is the Truth. Without it you will just go on doubting my words and being a slave to you upbringing. I won't touch you; I won't cast a spell. I'll just explain to you, in very simple words, how to heal yourself. It will take five minutes for me to teach you. And from one second to several years to apply to yourself the healing process. Do you have five more minutes to devote to me?"

* * *

Maureen wasn't happy.

But at the same time she was happy. She was happy as never before. She was happy to be alive and, looking at her chest, even happier to note that there would be no scars left.

But to be alive after having been shot three times and stabbed once in the same couple of minutes was taking its toll on her happiness. She had seen and felt the blood rush out of those wounds. She had felt her life slowly running out of her body and soaking her clothes.

And here she was: alive and able to walk only four days after having been shot and stabbed.

You couldn't be raised as an Irish catholic maiden and not look at those breasts of hers without thinking witchcraft. The only other possibility was a miracle but what Saint would waste a miracle to revive such as her?

She smiled. D'Arcy would, but the problem was that he wasn't a Saint. For that she had had ample proof.

And that was her other reason to be unhappy. She had blabbered while dying.

She was sure she had. Why would she have restrained herself? She was dying. No problem for him to know that she still loved him. She only had a few minutes left. And when you have only a few minutes left you try to say the most important things.

Things like: I still love you and never stopped loving you!

God what a mess!

What was she going to do? What was he going to do?

Soon she was unhappy again.

It would have been better if she had died.

* * *

"Geoffrey?"

He looked up and immediately frowned.

"What are doing up and dressed? You should be in your bed resting and recovering."

She smiled at him, but didn't flinch.

"That's the problem, love. Could you please spend a moment with me? I really have to talk with you about," she hesitated, "important things, very important things. I'll wait in our apartment… See you there!"

* * *

Two minutes later she was in his arms and he was looking at her with a mix of disbelief, solicitude and concern in his eyes.

"Why are you up?"

"I have to show you something."

She slipped her shoulder out of her dress and showed him her perfectly healed shoulder. But not only her perfectly healed shoulder. Some features of her bosom were very evident.

"How?" he said while his eyes betrayed his interest for places well beyond said shoulder.

"I'll explain everything," she said with a seducing smile, her arms closing around his neck. "But before explaining, I'll need to convince you."

He bowed and began to kiss her neck.

"Do I need convincing?" he whispered into her hair.

"I'm sure of it," she answered in a breath.

* * *

"Lucky for us, I asked for an hour," he said while looking at his fingers gliding along the curves of her perfect body. "I could be in time if I hurry."

"You could be, but with your fingers roaming my bosom, I doubt you'll be able to tear yourself out of this bed." She giggled. "I suppose that after another hour they will know what's happening."

"Don't fret about it. I'm sure Benevento cancelled the meeting five minutes after you began your little display."

"Are we under scrutiny?"

"No need my love, a good pair of ears are enough to know what we just shared."

She looked up in sham displeasure.

"Do you pretend I'm noisy?"

He smiled at her.

"Never, but I do know that you are rather effusive in certain circumstances. And it has been quite a long time."

"Indeed," she said while crouching all over him. "It had been quite a long time. And I feel like catching up! Don't you?"

* * *

"How do you feel about her," he searched for words, "challenge!"

"She's so full of herself," said Jane through gritted teeth. "Just to prove her wrong I should accept. But since it is exactly how her manipulations are woven I should just refuse."

She smiled at him  
"As you see my opinion is not yet clearly defined. A part of me is scared and a part of me is very much interested. I'm like a child in a candy shop. I know I'll be sick if I indulge myself but I'm no longer able to resist."

"And there is your shoulder…"

She sighed.

"Yes there is my shoulder. Healed and allowing perfectly smooth moves. Just after five minutes of her teaching. It is tempting!"

"She also said that you could spend years learning to heal yourself…" He looked at his wife with pride in his eyes. "You managed it in a few seconds…"

"It was easy. Once she'd told me what to search for, it was really transparent. It just asked for a little concentration to follow the stream and to build a bridge between my shoulder and my womb and to lead a little energy from one place to the other. I'm quite sure that being pregnant eased it a lot." She lost herself in her inner thoughts. "It was as if my body already knew what to do to build tissues in a hurry."

He sighed.

"I'm at the same time thrilled to know that you're able to heal yourself with such ease and frightened when I consider what it could mean if it should be known."

"We will have to conceal for a few days that I'm healed. I'll stay in my room the next two days as was planned."

"I'll just inform Abd Alkedr. He's already after me because of Maureen's miraculous healing. I'll have to give him an exotic explanation." He smiled at her. "It seems that one of my old Chinese friends has just sent some healing vials. And I used one to heal Maureen and one to heal you. Lusty husband that I am."

"Don't give him everything. I want you to be able to save your own life if necessary. Without outside help."

"I'll take three of them, give three others to Benevento, he's a crook but he won't steal from us. Of course I'll inform him of what it is and he'll be allowed to use it on himself if necessary. You take three and the rest I'll give to Abd Alkedr."

"Hopefully it will cover all contingencies," prayed Jane who wasn't very satisfied with the deal.

"You'll come tonight?"

"Of course, I'll come, but it would probably be better if I didn't, with you being so effusive, you know."

She stuck out her tongue.

"I was not being effusive! I was hurting and you, possessive and insensitive male that you are, you just went on making me moan."

"Oh, now it's my fault, is it?"

She jumped him.

"Of course it is! And I'm quite sure your lust will not abate these coming nights and you'll make me cry and moan again."

She shook her head and a tear rolled along her cheek.

"Men are such brutal beasts!"

He gave her immediate proof.

She moaned but didn't protest.


	9. Curses and Changes

**Chapter Nine: Curses and Changes**

* * *

**London, East End and Consular Palace, Monday the 25th of September**

* * *

"I don't care if it is difficult. I want that ship sunk with all hands. You owe me Jacob, you owe me plenty…"

"Wickham–"

"Darcy, now! My name is Darcy! Don't you dare to forget it."

Jacob sighed and looked at his lieutenants. It could be that he had to decide to have Wickham killed, he was crazier by the day.

"Don't even think about it," screeched his opposite. "I'm no longer a little fish in the pond. If something should happen to me you'll regret it sooner than later."

"Nothing will happen," answered Jacob who disagreed with Wickham about him being no longer a little fish in the pond. He was still a little fish but a little fish with important relatives and a delusion of grandeur. Delusions, which could be very dangerous for his partners.

"And it never was my intention to bring you harm. But your demand is unreasonable! I no longer have the ships to attack another ship between here and Cardiff. No ship can sail without a good reason and an authorization from the port authorities, port authorities, which are under the Consul's thumb. My ships are blocked at port and if you can't procure me an authorization they won't budge."

"Then infiltrate a few of your men aboard their ship and blow it up."

"You have an idea which ship perhaps? And when?"

"No," grumbled Wickham, "I don't, not yet!"

"Then, since I don't have a thousand sailors to infiltrate all ships that could sail out in the next week, wait till you have more information and come back. And then we'll speak about the best way to make you the master of Pemberley!"

Wickham shot him a venomous glance and stomped out of the inn.

"Crazier by the day, Wicked George," said Stevens his second. "He just got a name and a fortune and he wants more, stupid ass!"

"Yes," agreed Jacob. "But he is also more dangerous by the hour."

"We deal with him?" asked Titch his First Mate.

"I'm not crazy," whispered Jacob. "I won't attack d'Arcy's family. No debt is worth that man's wrath. But not dealing with that rabid dog could be even more dangerous."

"What we do then?"

Jacob smiled at the Inn's door. "We play both sides. That's what we do."

* * *

Third Consul Lebrun was disappointed.

The answer to his request had been negative.

The first Consul hadn't agreed to let him stay in England.

He hadn't given strict orders to come back, but he had clearly refused to designate him as the next Governor of England.

_Well_, thought Lebrun_, it has been a nice dream._

He would probably be forced to go back to Paris before December. Well, being at home for Christmas would be a nice thing.

He was looking at the Palace's park when he saw a quartet riders coming at full speed toward the main entrance.

Lancers… They came from the port. At that speed?

He turned and looked at the clock.

His appointment with Edward Gardiner was still an hour out. He had enough time.

He went to the door and opened it.

No two minutes later, the lancers were passing the corner or the corridor and running in his direction waving a heavy letter in his direction.

"_Ils ont pris Dublin, monsieur le Consul. Ils ont débarqué en Irlande_…" [They have taken Dublin, Sir. They landed in Ireland.]

He took the letter thanked the lancers and went back into his office.

Ten seconds later he was reading.

_Mon cher consul et ami,_

_J'ai le plaisir de vous annoncer que moi et_ …

_I'm very satisfied to announce that my troops and I have successfully disembarked in Dublin. The port and the citadel have been taken and one of my armies is already entering the city. What soldiers we have seen have been very eager to surrender so I'm rather optimistic that the town will be ours by first light tomorrow morning._

_Sorry for not informing you before but I love having the benefit of surprise and I've learned a long time ago that the only way to secure a secret is to be the only one to know. So the secret is no longer necessary and I confess that there was never a real American Invasion Plan. I won't abandon Louisiana and I won't let our Canadian Brethren rotting much longer under the British yoke but they will have to wait a few more weeks to come back into France's fold. Please send the word to my generals that new orders are coming their way and that they'll have a little Irish stunt to perform before the end of the year. I'm not yet sure which armies will be needed. Precise orders will be sent through you in order to keep you informed. As of now I'm quite sure this campaign will be as successful as my England campaign._

_A letter is on its way to the First Consul with a more formal content. _

_News will follow on a daily basis. _

_Geoffroy d'Arcy._

Lebrun smiled and shook his head.

That man was… incredible.

He was indeed the man in charge of France's foreign affairs abroad and the Consuls had officially given him _carte blanche_ abroad, but, by God, he was only a Proconsul. He should have asked for…

Lebrun couldn't stop a laugh.

In his position he should have frown at d'Arcy's initiatives, but all he could do was laugh.

D'Arcy had surprised everybody and brought twenty thousand men to disembark in Dublin. And probably would push everything English out of Ireland before Christmas.

Success was the best of all excuses and even if the First Consul would be very, very angry with d'Arcy he would never show it in public.

He would smile and cheer and congratulate French's best strategist.

He would very publicly acknowledge the new success of the Consulate against a now toppled foe and use the news to improve his image as the cleverest Statesman France has known since Charles the Great. And as a side effect gather even more bribes from a lot more scared princelings.

And two hours after having fits of anger –_and broken quite a few pieces of furniture_– he would realize what a gift d'Arcy had just handed him. And being the smartest man in Europe he would see quite a few ways to use it.

Lebrun's smile broadened because with this news he had a very good reason to stay here in London at least till the end of the Irish campaign. Because to implement his tax reform in France he needed to prove that it could be successful at a great scale. And here in England was the ideal setting to test it.

It would be difficult in such a short time frame but it was clearly his only chance ever.

He had to do it.

He would do it.

A knock at the door announced to him that his favorite guest had arrived.

* * *

"You don't seem surprised, Edward," said Lebrun.

"Fitzwilliam guessed his brother's true destination, Charles. He suspected, I should say, since with d'Arcy nothing is ever certain. But his suspicions were rather well pondered. And if I remember well, the Irish always believed that he had made them the promise to free Ireland."

Lebrun shook his head.

"He tends indeed to stand to his word. And that's a very good thing since he also vowed never to turn against the Consulate. It'll be easier for me to convince Napoleon that d'Arcy is not a threat to his power base."

"His? Not the Consulate's?"

"You're a smart man, Edward. You know that the Consulate and Napoleon are, if not totally, _almost_ the same thing. Cambacérès and I are only side-kicks in the great scheme of things."

He lifted his hands to smother his friend's protests.

"I don't say I'm useless, but the Consulate is Bonaparte's brain child and we _lesser Consuls_ are just there to give the people the feeling that it's not a one man rule. France is not yet ready to see a new Monarch hold so much power. But that will not last, take my word for it. As soon as Napoleon feels that he is free to grab for the power he'll do it. He won't crown himself King but–"

Edward Gardiner chuckled.

"D'Arcy is sure that he will crown himself Emperor."

Lebrun nodded his agreement.

"It would suit my friend's high opinion of himself. High opinion I share completely!"

Mr. Gardiner nodded while smiling.

"He has accomplished quite a lot, Charles, _that_ nobody can deny. But d'Arcy is achieving even more right now. Will it not bring bad blood between them?"

"It could and to be very honest with you I was sent here to get a feeling for what d'Arcy is really after."

"And?" asked Mr. Gardiner. "What's your conclusion?"

Lebrun could only sigh while shaking his head.

"I don't know and that's the problem. Until this morning I was certain that d'Arcy's goal was to grab America and to establish a new Empire abroad. I was sure it was his final goal. Once there with his armies, nobody could have rooted him out. Now I'm no longer sure. With his Irish campaign, he stays in Europe on Napoleon's turf and he won't be able to keep his armies more than six or seven more months. Because I'm quite sure that next Spring Napoleon will launch a brand new European campaign. With d'Arcy's successes in the British Isles, he needs his own victories. And he's an impatient man. Next Spring he will strike."

"Any idea where he will strike?"

Lebrun nodded and looked Edward Gardiner in the eyes. "I have but I want your word that nothing of what I'm going to say will ever be repeated. I know you're an honest man, Edward. An honest and smart man! But even honest and smart men don't live in a vacuum. Are you sure that it won't pose a problem for you to know things that are, for now, not public and rather secret?"

Edward Gardiner gave himself the time to ponder his friend's question.

"I'm a businessman, nobody will ask me questions about military campaigns. Those who approach me ask business questions and my wife never asks anything, she is discretion incarnate."

"Alright then, but be aware that what I'm going to tell are only suppositions. But I'm quite sure I'm right. The Czar is visiting Paris in the very near future. I'm sure that the young Russian Emperor will be very interested in my boss' propositions. As a matter of fact I would gamble half my fortune that Napoleon will present him a variation of d'Arcy's Ottoman campaign." Lebrun snickered. "He has called it the 'Mare Nostrum strategy' and Napoleon liked the title quite a lot."

"Ambitious isn't it?"

"Not in the least," said Lebrun. "We already know that the North African Mediterranean coasts are ready to join France if we give them the same rights that their Middle Eastern brethren received. That part will be the easiest and it will open Africa to French businessmen. Greece and the Balkan will be the trickiest part because of Austria. While Napoleon's armies attack Turkey in the south and the Czar's in the North it is quite certain that Austria will try to grab the Turkish dominions at its southern borders. And if they succeed it will be a mess to root them out. But in the end, in my opinion, one thing is sure: there won't be an Ottoman Empire left next Fall."

He shook his head.

"But as I said those are speculations, and speculations for next year. We have more immediate business!"

He took the file containing his –their, he should say– favorite brain child.

"The Irish campaign means that we have probably three more months to launch the tax and voting reforms. We should make the best out of theses months."

"What I don't understand is why the Consulate agreed to test it here in England. Shouldn't it be just the French Constitution applied in those new French Départements?"

"It should were it not for Napoleon's mistrust. He and Sieyès have built a rather unique Constitution where the legislative power is subordinate to the executive. And Napoleon doesn't want the fragile balance he built in the Three-Chamber Parliament to be destroyed by bringing in new representatives. Thanks to our new Eastern Départements he has a secured majority in all three Chambers. Those Lybians and Egyptians love to be treated as equals with all the other French citizens and even if most of them hate each others' guts they idolize Napoleon and d'Arcy. But since d'Arcy is abroad and has given the political stage to Napoleon they do what Napoleon wants."

He smiled sarcastically.

"Even if England is now considered to be part of France and will, some day in the Future, have the right to elect representative to the two lower Chambers it will be quite a while before it can be done actually."

"Meanwhile it's d'Arcy's to do as he pleases. And since he had given me a mandate to do it for him I'll do just that and bring the necessary political and economic changes into being!"

He looked at Mr. Gardiner.

"With your help, Edward?"

"My help and my pleasure, Charles," came the immediate answer. "And I'm more than interested in what will happen when we launch our little experiment in Utopian Politics. I hope Saint Thomas More will be satisfied with our efforts."


	10. Challenge and Counter Challenge

**Chapter Ten: Challenge and Counter challenge**

* * *

**Dublin, Tuesday the 26th of September**

* * *

"I'll take up her challenge."

He smiled and embraced her more tightly.

"I've never doubt a second that you would, _mon amour_. You don't look like one, but you are a fighter to the soul. She knew it too and she chose the words of her challenge with care. You couldn't–"

"Do you mean I shouldn't?"

He brushed her lips with a loving kiss.

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean that you had and have no choice in the matter. Not with that black witch challenging you and pretending that her way is the only one. You wouldn't be yourself if you didn't try and raise to the challenge."

"Am I just prey to a sly manipulator? Is it a mistake to accept?"

He looked her in the eye and shared with her his confidence in her.

"She's perhaps right and there is no other way than hers," he whispered. "But there is one thing I know with certainty: if there is one person I'd like to see at the head of an assembly of witches then it's the only woman I've encountered who has the gift to make goodness blossom in the heart of soulless killers."

She accepted the compliment with a smile and a kiss.

"I've only worked on one, not enough to–"

He stopped her with another kiss.

"Not true" denied he. "You've worked your wonders on two gutless killers. Maureen and me. We are no longer what we were and it's only due to the light you've shed into our souls." They smiled at each other. "It's your fight, go on if you believe you're up to the challenge and be assured that I'll be at your side till my death to support and defend you." His eyes became hard as flint. "And to protect you, I'm ready to reverse into my gutless killer role faster than you could think possible."

* * *

"Mary, could you please join me?"

"Of course, Jane," answered Mary while shutting her book. "Where?"

"The study in our rooms," whispered her sister. "It's a secure part of the castle. No curious ears eavesdropping on us there."

Mary took note of her sister's words before accompanying her and taking place in the armchair facing her. No sisterly chatter today, but serious and important matters, probably in conjunction with the surprising arrival of Duchess Waintree, the Duchess who was right now in Lydia's apartments showering her sister and their mother with advice and counsels.

"Your shoulder seems better," said Mary while studying her eldest sister.

She was shining with that inner light that betrayed her nightly performances better than her springy gait and rosy cheeks. But since those were there too, she had no doubt that the d'Arcy couple was, once more, in the best of health.

Jane slipped her shoulder out of her dress –a d'Arcy fashion dress with a large open space in the back–and showed it to her sister.

"I'm healed."

Mary nodded, her eyes studying what should have been scary or at least rosy tissue and seeing nothing but normal flesh. "With Maureen up and running that makes two rather miraculous healing processes in less than a week. Shouldn't we open a Hospital? It seems that Dublin's mists are good for injured people's health."

"That's indeed at the center of what I have to tell you about." She smiled at Mary. "I know it's unusual but this time it's me who needs your advice, Mary. I have a very difficult decision to make and I need your expertise."

"My expertise?"

Jane nodded. "I'm in need of spiritual advice and you're the only person on earth with enough spiritual knowledge that I can trust."

"_I_ am the only person you can trust?" stammered Mary. "You're sure about that? I'm still Mary, your boring baby sister."

Jane bent forward and took her sister's hand.

"I know, Mary, I know. And no you are not boring." She smiled at her sister and her eyes laughed. "Not all the time anyway. But in matters religion and faith, you are the only one I trust enough to hand out the knowledge I recently received. A knowledge which could very well get me burned alive if we are not very careful."

Mary nodded.

"It's the Duchess, isn't it? I always had this strange feeling when she was in attendance. As if she was pondering our worth."

"That she was and yes, it's her. She proposed deal. And I'm not sure what to do. It could be that I'm proposing to trade my soul for the lure of power, Great Power!"

Mary nodded, settled herself into the comfortable armchair, crossed her legs, and leaned back.

"I'm all ears, _madame d'Arcy_. Tell me everything and, I swear, I'll ponder my answers before giving you my advice."

Half an hour later she was still leaning comfortably in her armchair, but her face was marked equally by worries and interest.

"My, my," she said. "That's a vicious and interesting challenge! She played your pride like a master violin player." She looked in her sister's eyes. "Do you really believe you're cut from the stuff to reverse millennia of experience?"

"Why not, Mary, it could–"

"Please, Jane," interrupted Mary. "Don't fall in her trap. She's obviously a master in manipulating people. She plays on your belief to be a good enough person to resist the lure of power and might."

"You don't think I am?"

"That's not the problem, Jane," answered Mary. "The problem with good and compassionate people is that they are, most of the time, quite gullible. Do you believe you're the first in all those millennia to have had a good heart and a compassionate soul who's been approached by them and lured into them?"

Jane could only shake her head. Mary went on.

"So there were others before you and obviously they all failed."

"Perhaps not, It could be that–"

Mary shook her head and stopped her with a firm gesture.

"No, it couldn't," she said. "Or perhaps it did happen! I'm ready to believe that some of them did rise to the challenge and became, let's call them, Light Witches. But what's plain is that neither they nor their knowledge survived."

Mary shot a suspicious look in the direction where Lydia and her mother were "entertained" by the Duchess.

"You must understand that by approaching you the so-called sisterhood has everything to win. You fail and you become one of theirs, they win. You win and you give birth to a Light Path independent of them. What of it? They just managed to build the perfect dummy to throw to the wolves in times of need. Be sure that they won't hesitate for a second to throw you to any clergy willing to launch a little witch hunt. While they crouch under the rugs! Once more they win."

Mary shook her head and frowned at Jane.

"In fact they have already won! You have accepted their drugs –and used them–and you have accepted their teachings. You're already –_pardon the words_–in deep shit!"

Seeing her sister losing all colors she took her hands and forced herself to remain calm. Confidence was of the essence here.

"Don't fret we'll just have to take some countermeasures."

She began to count on her fingers.

"Well, apart from the doctor, nobody outside the family knows about Maureen's healing. She won't like it, but the first thing to do is to restrain her for the next two weeks in her room. She's no longer in agony, but she is still very much injured. She stays there and nobody, but the doctor and members of the family, visit her when she's not 'ready' to greet visitors. In a few day we'll let her have visitors, but she needs to be strapped in bandages most of the time. If somebody enters her room by accident she must be in bed and visibly injured."

She looked at her sister.

"And you, you search your old wardrobe and don one of these old, clumsy, everything-covering dresses you no longer wear. And if there could be a bandage apparent underneath it would be much better."

"Geoffrey was going to speak about medicines coming from far off China," protested Jane not really ready to wear those old, clumsy and restraining dresses again.

"That's the backup plan should it be needed. For the time being it would be much better for everybody involved to let the world believe that everything is as it should be! If nobody asks questions you don't need to give answers." She made a face at Jane. "And you won't need to lie. You know how awful you are when trying it."

Mary closed her eyes to concentrate.

"That should close the injuries' problem. Just don't forget to make a face from time to time. You're hurting, remember?"

She sighed.

"Well let's come to the reason you asked me for my advice."

She shook her head.

"I'd like to give you spiritual reasons to go on or to quit but in my opinion it's too late to back out. She's already trapped you so we have only one solution: we must trap her more than she trapped us. If we go on we need to incriminate the Duchess. We must do everything in our power to make her association with you well known and well spread out among everybody of importance. It must be very clear to her that if anything should leak out she'll be among the suspects. No secrecy and no hiding in the shadows."

Jane frowned at her sister. "What do you mean 'no secrecy'?"

Mary smiled at her. "I'm not yet ready and I must think about the best way to manage it, but let's just remember that hiding in plain sight is the best way not to be noticed."

Mary's smile broadened.

"Yes 'Hiding in plain sight' is the best solution!"

She stood up, embraced Jane and went to the door.

"Don't forget to strap your shoulder and to change." She winked. "It should only be for two days. You'll survive."

* * *

"_Papa?"_

_"Oui, ma chérie?"_

Duroc was, as was becoming usual, with his daughter in the part of the Palace d'Arcy had taken to accommodate his generals.

"Why do men dislike smart women?"

Duroc sighed discreetly and shut his eyes to concentrate before answering.

_And she's only nine… God what will it be in ten years?_

"I don't believe that men dislike smart women, dear. You can't speak in those general terms. The fact that they are smart is probably not the reason why men dislike certain women."

His daughter shot him a glance where mistrust wasn't absent.

"Let me ask you the same question differently: what would you choose; a rich pretty dumb woman or a rich pretty smart woman?"

Duroc knew that for that question there was no adequate answer.

_Time to duck the issue._

"You know dear money is really not so important. Your mom wasn't rich and she had scores of men interested in her."

His daughter nodded but didn't take the bait.

"I agree that riches are unimportant. Then which one would you choose? The pretty dumb or the pretty smart?"

_Let's try something else._

"Your mom was pretty and smart and I choose her."

"But you were in love, weren't you?"

"Madly…"

"Then it doesn't count. We are not speaking love match we are speaking choosing a wife one doesn't love, as it happens in a dynastic marriage. Would you choose the pretty dumb woman or the pretty smart woman?"

He hesitated.

What could he say? The good answer was the pretty smart woman, of course, but he didn't know why he was feeling that it would not be the best answer he could give.

He decided that he would not play that game with his daughter.

"Your mother was smart; I've proven that I clearly prefer smart women."

That got him a smile.

"That's good! Thank you, father. It's good to know."

He didn't ask 'why?' because he felt that he wasn't ready to listen to the answer to that question.

* * *

The most difficult part had been to separate her mother and sister from the Duchess.

But with the help of her brother's secretary she had managed to get them apart for a few minutes.

She had already located her father and asked him to wait for them in the study where she and Jane had talked earlier.

They were soon gathered and word had been spread that Mr. Bennet had summoned a family meeting.

As soon as they had gathered around her father, Mary went out to invite Jane to join them.

Before they entered, Mary looked her sister in the eyes.

"It's your choice, Jane, but I'm feeling that you should tell the whole family. I'm sure you would already have spoken with Lizzy, were she here, but I feel that this a family matter and you should give them the truth also." She sighed. "But if you prefer not to speak about it, just take a few moments to explain what we want them to do about Maureen and you."

She opened the door.

"It's up to you, Jane," she said with a smile.

* * *

Edward Bennet listened to his daughter's story without making the least comment. His thoughts had been of his mother. His mother who, fifty years ago, had been killed by a raving mob because they believed she was a Witch.

He had been focused on the details of Jane's tale, but the memories had been there from beginning to end.

When she stopped, he looked at his daughter and nodded.

"I won't let another loved one die because of sorcery," he said in husky tone.

"Nobody's going to die," answered his wife. "We are here to avoid any further catastrophe."

"And you really healed yourself?" asked Lydia who was more interested than afraid.

"I did," answered Jane. "It is, as I said, rather easy to perform."

"There won't be ano–" began Mr. Bennet, but his wife stopped him by forcing him to look at her.

"Stop that, Edward," whispered she while shaking him. "Focus! You're the smart Bennet, don't let us down. We all need you at your best."

They looked at each other and she could see him swing between despair and resolve.

"We have no choice, husband! What's done is done. Our daughter has been trapped and is in need of our help. We can do this… together!"

That brought him back.

_Indeed, together_…

His mother has died alone. His father has been too shaken and scared to help her. They hadn't killed him, but his guilt had soon taken him to an early and perhaps sought after death.

"Indeed," he said. "We will find a solution together." He looked at his eldest. "We won't let you fight this fight alone. We'll help you."

She smiled at him. "I had no doubt, Papa."

* * *

"Just killing her won't do the trick, would it?"

Everybody looked astonished at Mrs. Bennet.

She shrugged, the hint of a smile on her lips.

"Well it could have been a solution."

"Indeed," agreed Jane. "But I'm sure she's taken her precautions. She won't vanish without letting it be known."

Mr. Bennet nodded.

"And more to the point it is not the path we will take." He smiled at his daughter. "The Path of Light won't be sullied by spent blood."

"So we try it?" asked Jane.

"No choice, there, dear," answered Mary. "We agree that just adhering to the sisterhood is not what we want to do?"

"Never," agreed Jane. "I'm convinced that I'll be able to use those powers without slipping into the Darkness."

"I'm not sure you should even try," said Lydia.

That got her an astonished look from the rest of the family.

"Don't get me wrong! I'd love to be a powerful witch! Really. Were I in Jane's place I wouldn't have asked anybody before signing with my blood."

She didn't flinch under her father's fiery frown.

"But that's because I wouldn't have taken a second to look at the consequences. I would only have thought of the Power I could have wielded. And not what it would have done to who I am."

She looked her eldest sister in the eyes.

"Don't accept, Jane. It will destroy what you are. The only power you need you have already learned. You don't need those other Powers. Really you do not! Look in your heart and you'll see that what she is offering you is not worth the price you'll pay for it."

She sighed.

"I like the Duchess very much. And I do believe that in her twisted way she does like me. But I'm sure, Jane, that she doesn't like you! She's just trying to use you. You are too different to mix well. She has her own agenda and you Jane have no place in her schemes. Not as long you are yourself. So I say: keep to what you are. Don't let her lure you into something you'll never be while being yourself."

She shook her head and looked at her parents and Mary.

"I still would love to be a Witch. But even I know that if I follow that Path I'll lose my soul!" A tear escaped her eye. "Your soul is so much brighter than mine, don't risk it."

Jane could only protest.

"What's this nonsense?" she cried. "Who compares souls?"

A second later Lydia was in her sisters' arms all madly crying.

Mr. Bennet's smile slowly came back and he embraced his wife.

"You're right, dear," he whispered. "Together we will succeed."


	11. Family Betrayals

**Chapter Eleven: Family Betrayals**

* * *

**London, Wednesday the 27th of September**

* * *

Lebrun looked at the anonymous letter and frowned.

What should he do? Stop the infamous brother or let him proceed?

What was France's interest in that matter? Wales had just chosen a new King and having him killed on British soil or even on British waters wouldn't be taken kindly by their Welsh allies.

The First Proconsul's reaction could only be guessed but the new –_next_–queen of Wales was d'Arcy's wife's sister. The d'Arcys wouldn't take the murder lightly and d'Arcy would be really pissed off if he ever got the information that Lebrun knew about his brother's attempt.

Lebrun shook his head and looked, once more, at the letter.

Lebrun's family no longer played a role in his life. Both parents were dead, for quite a few years, and his marriage only continued for political reasons; he was not very family oriented.

Clearly that was not d'Arcy's case.

For him family was important even If, had he had the opportunity, he would have slaughtered his father and half-brother with quite a lot of enthusiasm.

But having read the reports Fouchet's men had collected about d'Arcy's family –_nothing about d'Arcy himself ever came out of Fouchet's office_– Lebrun could very well understand that the younger son could have envisioned patricide and fratricide.

Lebrun sighed a last time and rang the bell demanding his secretary's presence. Who was knocking at the door a few seconds later.

"Come in, Pierre."

The door opened and Pierre Commines, Lebrun's trusted and loyal, private secretary, came in and immediately shut the double layer of doors protecting the Consul's office from outside curiosity.

"What can I do for you, Monsieur?"

"I need you for an errand in town, Pierre. I'd like you to go to the Darcy House and show that thing," he snorted, "to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Let him know that his brother will be under arrest for a fake reason for the next two days. After that I will be forced to let him go."

Pierre sighed.

"He's tried it again?"

Lebrun shook his head. "No, not yet! He's trying to launch something while his half-brother is still in French territory. I'm quite sure he would have loved to point at us for culprits."

Pierre shrugged.

"I don't understand why d'Arcy hasn't just made that shit of a brother disappear. I'm quite sure nobody would have insisted on a lengthy investigation…"

Lebrun looked his secretary in the eyes.

"The official reason is because his wife asked him not to."

Pierre lifted an eyebrow.

Lebrun snickered. "You're right and that's exactly why I call that the official reason. I'm quite sure d'Arcy dotes on his wife and listens to her more than it is in France's interest but that walking shit tried to have her killed while she was pregnant! So I do believe d'Arcy has other reasons to let George Darcy live."

Pierre nodded.

"He would probably come in handy as a scapegoat."

"Or for plenty of other reasons, Pierre! Don't forget we are speaking of d'Arcy, the man who convinced Napoleon _not _to plunder Syria and Egypt's riches!"

"And he's got more riches now than he would have had had he plundered the East."

"No doubt on that, Pierre. And Napoleon knows quite precisely that he owes a very large amount of his personal wealth to d'Arcy's foresight. That's also the main reason we are here _not_ plundering England. Because if Syria and Egypt got him so much wealth while being rather undeveloped countries, his imagination gives him a clear view of what could come his way even if d'Arcy gets the lion's share before him."

Pierre nodded and took the letter.

"No more comment going with the letter?"

"No, more would be too much I already did everything in my power to get Their Majesties' good will yesterday." He pointed at the letter. "That should definitively convince them that I'm a friend of the family."

He smiled.

"It's always a good thing to be a trusted friend of the ruler! It's true with Napoleon, but I'm sure it's true with any ruler! And Darcy seems to me a man of Honor, more so the reason to have him indebted to me." He shrugged. "I don't know the future, Pierre but one thing I know from experience: it's never a bad plan to divide one's eggs to put them in more than one basket!"

Pierre bowed and turned toward the door.

"Last thing, Pierre. Should he ask, assure him that France would be delighted to transport him to Cardiff. If he doesn't, so be it!"

* * *

A knock at the study's door pulled him out of his dreams.

"Come in, Lizzy."

The door opened and his marvelous wife smiled at him.

"So you've made your decision?"

Darcy looked at his wife and nodded.

"Yes," he said, "I'll accept. But–"

She was at his side and her arms were soon around him.

"Don't do this to yourself! It's not treason! You haven't asked for it and it doesn't mean that you're letting England down. Wales requested you to accept. Did we really ever have a choice?"

She forced him to look into her eyes. She could see that he was full of doubts, but that now that the decision was made he wouldn't give up.

"Wales is a free country where most of the English gentry have found refuge. By reinforcing the Welsh Crown you give everyone in Britain a better chance to overcome our present weakness. We have the possibility to save Britain's soul for a future reawakening." She embraced him and his head was soon lost in her hair.

"Do you believe yourself unable to be King, Fitzwilliam?"

He sighed.

"It came a few times to my mind," he said, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

"Never did it come to mine."

"You are not unbiased, dear."

She bent backwards to show him her face.

"No, I'm not, but that doesn't imply that what I think is not worth considering. I know you Fitzwilliam Darcy. It took me time and quite a few misunderstandings, but I know you! And what I know is enough to convince me that you'll be the best of all Kings once you finally give yourself the chance to try."

He brushed her brow with a kiss and soon was again lost in the fragrance of her hair. A long time elapsed before a knock at the study's door forced them to let each other go. An urgent caller was waiting.

* * *

Fitzwilliam Darcy closed his eyes, forced himself to inhale a pair of long deep breaths before taking a second look at the letter.

"I have to thank you, monsieur Commines, in my name and in the name of my family that you took the time to show me this."

"It is only an anonymous letter, sir. It could be slander."

"It could be, but the past deeds of my brother point heavily in direction of this letter describing his true schemes."

He handed the letter back.

Pierre Commines took it and put it back in his portfolio. "Thank you, Sir. We will need it to launch the investigation against your brother. It won't be enough to get him under arrest for more than a day or two, but it should help in reducing his chances to–" he hesitated and smiled,. "be more creative in his attempts."

Fitzwilliam looked at his wife who, while present, had remained silent.

"Do you have something to add, dear?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"Indeed, I have, dear." She looked at the Consul's secretary. "What is our legal situation here in London?"

Commines seemed surprised. "Your situation, could you please be more precise? Do you speak of yourself and your husband or the whole of your family?"

Elizabeth shrugged.

"Let's begin with Fitzwilliam and I."

Commines sighed lightly.

"Till the Coronation you're French citizens. After that we, that means the Consul and his legal staff, consider that you have changed your nationality to become Welsh." He hesitated and soon smiled. "Well, probably not citizens, but should you need a passport it would be to the Welsh government to provide it."

"And our families?"

Commines made a non-committal gesture.

"I would say it's up to them. For now they are French citizens living in a Welsh enclave…" He looked back at Fitzwilliam. "That's also the reason why we will ask your brother to sacrifice a few hours of his time to explain to us why he was so shamelessly slandered."

Fitzwilliam couldn't help but smile at Commines' words.

_Indeed a few hours to explain wouldn't be too long_.

"I have a last request" added Elizabeth.

Commines turned to look at her.

"Yes, My Lady?"

"Since my brother could be innocent, but the threat still be real could it be possible to ask the help of the French government in order to provide us with a secure means of transport?"

Commines bowed.

"It could indeed, my Lady. And I'm quite sure that such a means already exists here in London. It seems that your brother didn't need the "_Gloire_" more than a few hours before sending her back. Since her crew was chosen by the Proconsul himself, she should probably be secure enough. I'll ask the Consul, but I'm sure he will agree."

Elizabeth thanked him with a royal smile.

* * *

"I should have killed him while he was groveling at my feet," groaned Richard Fitzwilliam.

"We have no proof," interrupted Kitty.

She frowned back at the general as soon as he looked at her.

"I don't doubt that he is guilty, but the fact remains: it is only my conviction and we-have-no-proof! You are a soldier not a killer. Had you killed him, he would have won since he would have forced you to use his slimy methods!"

Richard took a long and full breath while clenching his teeth and closing his eyes.

He finally nodded.

"You're right, I'm _not_ a killer." He tried a smile. "Sorry for my outburst, but he really grates on my nerves."

"We understand, Richard," said Elizabeth, "and you're not the only one who proposed to kill him, believe me! But Jane insisted that nothing should happen to him just because of suspicions. I agreed with her, but I fear that our leniency has been seen by him as weakness. I must confess that I'm rather scared. More and more do I believe he has lost his wits. And since insane people tend to do insane things, I'm all the more worried!"

Darcy sighed heavily.

"Today is a memorable day. I regret that it is so more because of George's insanity than because of my decision to accept the Welsh throne." He looked at Elizabeth. "I really hope we won't regret your sister's good heart."

"She wasn't alone in her choice. I agreed with her." Elizabeth shook her head. "If you're right about d'Arcy's Irish venture it should be possible to at least have her in Cardiff for the Coronation. I'll speak with her at that occasion. We'll see how she reacts."


	12. Decisions and Schemes

**Chapter Twelve: Decisions and Schemes**

* * *

**Dublin, Thursday the 28th of September**

* * *

"I won't be lured into your schemes, Your Grace," said Jane. "I spoke with the people I trust and, sorry if it seems rude, but all have agreed that I can't trust. So, no, I won't take the proposed challenge."

She looked her opposite directly in the eyes.

"I prefer to never be able to use these powers you have brandished before my eyes than give you the power to shape me into something which would no longer agree with who I am!"

Jane sighed and shook her head.

"Personally I'm glad to know that witchcraft exists, to know that certain women do have gifts which give them a way to change the reality around them. But I refuse to enter into the fray of men vs. women. In my opinion, that way has shown its uselessness. I'll try something else."

"You'll fail," countered the Duchess, "as all those who have tried before you failed."

"Perhaps I will fail. But I won't betray who I am by giving you more power over me than you already have."

"Your mistrust saddens me."

"I'm sorry for that, Your Grace. But as you know, good teachers have a real influence on their pupils' worldview."

She smiled.

"I'm sure you are the best of all and I'm quite sure I'm not yet good enough nor have the experience to see the consequences me of what you'll be teaching me. So, no I won't be your pupil and neither will any of my sisters."

It was the Duchess' turn to sigh. "I'm sorry to hear those words; we could have done great things together!"

"I'm sure of it," agreed Jane. "But I'm also sure that those great things would have been in total opposition with my present worldview. And I quite like the way I'm now."

The Duchess shrugged and began to stand up.

Jane stopped her.

"Please, Your Grace, I'm not yet done."

The Duchess frowned but sat back into her armchair.

"What else could there be to say?"

"Quite a lot," answered Jane while smiling. "Quite a lot."

She went to the door, opened it and ushered Lydia and Mary in.

"We have a proposition, Your Grace, a proposition which would explain the reason for your journey here and give me –_us_– a few guarantees towards you and your sisterhood."

"Guarantees?" asked the Duchess.

Lydia made a little sign. "If I may?"

Jane nodded and gave her sister the floor.

"Thank you, Jane," she looked at the Duchess. "I'm not satisfied with what happened, but I must tell you that I agree totally with Jane's opinion. I like you and I admire you, but, now knowing what you are, I'm quite sure that part of my feelings and beliefs were not entirely born out of my conscious choices."

She stopped the Duchess' answer with a motion, a rather powerful motion.

"I'm conscious that you had to do what you did. And I'm even convinced that you did it for what you consider the very best reasons." She smiled at the Duchess. "But you cannot deny that you had your own agenda all along, can you?"

The Duchess and her young friend shared a long moment of silence and finally the Duchess nodded.

"Yes and no. I had an agenda at Brighton, but it changed when I encountered you. I chose, not like everybody else who suffered it, to be thrown into those dungeons. And I chose to be with you."

She sniffed.

"At the beginning, I was there to influence the Crown Prince and I found myself confronted with a very delightful event: the discovery of a new unknown witch clan." She nodded more to herself than to the sisters. "And yes, I had an agenda the second I saw you. I couldn't let you wither away without at least trying to give you a chance to achieve your true potential."

Jane nodded and smiled softly at the Duchess.

"I don't believe in man's inborn ugliness, Your Grace. I accept that life's circumstances will shape a man's –_or a woman's_– worldview. But only death will, in my opinion, stop the chance to change."

The Duchess shook her head in denial.

"Don't delude yourself. I won't change my ways because the ways I chose are ways which have been successful for us."

Jane shrugged.

"That's your opinion, forgive me if I don't share it." She looked at Mary. "But there's something else we wanted to speak with you about."

She nodded toward Mary who took the floor.

"Yes, and since it's my idea, I'll have the pleasure of explaining it for you."

She took a long breath before going on.

"Officially, of course, it will be your idea." The Duchess frowned but didn't interupt Mary's depiction. "The reason, which brought you to Dublin to try and convince my sister."

Jane chuckled. "And I'm proud to say that you not only convinced me, but the whole of my family is now fervently behind you revolutionary idea."

"Papa," reminded Lydia, "will officially frown upon it, but Geoffrey, as usual unable to resist his beautiful wife, will support it!"

All three sisters were smiling and the sparkles in their eyes spoke volumes about the pleasure they were having.

"And my idea is?" whispered the Duchess.

Jane felt that it was her turn to take the floor. "You came to get Geoffrey's help with the creation of a Women's League, a Women's League which will cover everything women need. And Geoffrey agreed to back you on the condition that we, you and me, built it together."

Her smile grew wider.

"He even agreed to finance it, quite handsomely truth be told. We should be able to launch quite an interesting project."

"Do I have a choice, Madame d'Arcy?" asked the Duchess.

Jane's smile disappeared and her eyes became as hard as flint.

"If you know what's in your best interest, Your Grace, then there's only one answer to your question!"

* * *

"I have a problem, Maureen."

She shook her head.

"No, Geoffrey, it's me who has a problem."

He looked at her and his old impish smile was back.

"Why haven't you said a word? We could have–"

"No, at the time you were unable to love. Had I spoken about my feelings you would have dumped me immediately. Love was not your turf!"

She winked at him.

"She was able to make your heart burn in less than a day; I was with you for three years and I didn't ignite even a spark! Says a lot about our differences"

He nodded slowly.

"When I looked into your eyes I saw the devil we shared," he whispered. "When I look into her eyes, I see only love, compassion and understanding. And I catch myself believing that some of that love, compassion and understanding is perhaps also present in me."

Maureen couldn't help herself but smile.

"She does it to me too! When I look at her, I see the remnants of what I was ten years ago. And from time to time it calls to me. And I fool myself into believing that, perhaps, there's something to save from my older more innocent self!"

Geoffrey sighed before taking her in his arms.

"There is, Maureen, there is! It disappears only if you stop looking for it. And even then, as it happens for me, it seems it lingers just out of sight ready to come back if there's a good reason."

She nodded while basking in his embrace.

"You are my good reason, you know that?"

"I do, but, whatever happens, I won't betray her trust and her love."

"I ask for nothing, Geoffrey, I'm just happy to be at your side."

_One day you'll need more and you'll ask for more_, thought Geoffrey. _And when that day comes I'll refuse you and then how will you then react?_

Maureen knew at the exact moment she was saying it that it wasn't the truth. She was happy to be at his side, but it wouldn't last.

_I will need more of you, Geoffrey and you won't be able to give it to me. God only knows how I'll react then_.

* * *

"Mama, can I ask you a question?"

Mrs. Bennet looked up from her book, a book her husband had advised her to read and which was indeed more than interesting. She smiled at herself.

_Who would have bet a schilling on Mrs. Fanny Bennet ever becoming a bookworm?_

"Of Course, Jane dear, but I do believe that there are very few domains where I'm still able to counsel you." She smiled proudly at her eldest. "You're quite the formidable Lady nowadays."

Of course Jane blushed and looked at the floor.

Mrs. Bennet put the book on the table and made her daughter sit at her side.

"But what I know is yours to consult."

Jane nodded.

"It's about sharing love."

"Sharing love?" repeated Mrs. Bennet more to give herself a countenance than out of surprise. She knew something like this was coming their way. She just never would have believed that Jane would come to her with the problem.

"What do you mean?"

Jane took a long breath.

"Pardon me if I seem rude, Mama, but I'd like to know how it is when you love more than one person? Was I responsible for your love's faltering toward Papa?"

Mrs. Bennet could only cry out with indignation. "Of course not! Never did you have the least responsibility for the problems your father and I had on that front. Quite the contrary! The first year of your being with us was the most beautiful year of my whole life. Your father's love didn't falter because of you; it blossomed manifold. He loved you with all his heart and his love for you resurrected his passion for me." She laughed heartily. "And Lizzy is the living proof of the renewal of our relationship!"

"And did Lizzy's coming change anything?"

Here Mrs. Bennet's smile disappeared. And guilt was soon obscuring her mood.

Three months earlier she would have swooned, cried for her breathing salts and avoided the answer. But that could no longer be the case.

"Yes it did," she nodded finally. "Not immediately. At first, it was just like with you. He loved her and he loved me even more for having given him such a smart and interesting daughter."

She shook her head.

"I'm not saying that you are not smart, Jane. Heavens no. But it was not always the case. For long years I considered you rather–" She hesitated, groping for words which wouldn't be rude. "Restricted. Not as brilliant, intellectually, as Lizzy." There a tear escaped her left eye and soon she was crying on her daughter's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, dear," she said finally between two sobs, "I never should have let myself into the sin of comparing my girls. There is nothing to compare. Not between siblings and not between strangers. Each one of them is a marvel with his or her advantages. You, you never ever fell into this mistake. You never did choose between me and Edward. You were always happy to be with either one of us. Your nature was and is about sharing happiness. That's what gives you strength and resilience. You don't divide people in categories. For you every human being is of the same worth. And you love them with all your heart."

She shook her head and took her daughter's hands in hers.

"But Lizzy wasn't as perfect as you. She was smart as a knife and cute as a button and I was not the intellectual challenge she needed to blossom."

Once more she shook her head.

"And, to my shame, I did nothing to rise to her challenge. I just quit the fight and let jealousy sneak into my heart. And since you and she were so devoted to each other, by depriving her of my love I punished you while punishing her."

Jane embraced her mother.

"I never felt deprived of your love, Mama."

"That's only because you're a radiant and forgiving soul, dear! Because the truth is there: I let you down and never again gave you all the love I knew I was able to give you, because at the beginning I did give it to you! I no longer did and used the birth of your sister Mary as an excuse."

Jane became as serious as at the beginning of their talk.

"So love does decrease with time and the swelling of people to love?"

"No," protested her mother. "Love decreased only because I stopped being willing to share. I resented Lizzy's mind and her relationship with your father and so I choose that pretext to drift apart from you, Lizzy and Edward. But it was the doing of my mistaken mind and has nothing to do with the number of people you can share your love with."

She forced herself to look into her daughter's eyes.

"I know now that love doesn't diminish with the number of people you chose to love. It's not a cake with a definitive amount, dear. Love is like a candle. You can choose to light it or you can chose to go on living in Darkness. And each person you love is a candle of its own. And what's even more pleasant with love is that the more lit candles you have around you the brighter your life will be!"

She took her daughter in her arms and whispered in her ear.

"And the only way for love to cease lighting your life is if you, of your own accord, chose to snuff it out!"

Jane nodded and made a gesture as if the conversation had come to an end.

Her mother stopped her with a powerful grip on her arm.

"No, My Lady" she said. "I'm quite sure that my answer has given you a better insight on what happened years ago in the Bennet family. But that wasn't really the topic you wanted to breach today, am I right?"

Jane blushed and stammered a few non-committal words.

"Don't even try dear. There's something on your mind and that something is in relation to that outstanding husband of yours. So speak, daughter! You know I won't let you flee while my curiosity is at its peak."

Jane blushed darker.

"It's delicate…"

"Jane! Please! You know that even if I'm an accomplished gossip I'll never speak about something serious pertaining to the family. It will stay our secret."

Jane took a long breath.

"I hesitated, I could have asked Papa. But then I'm not quite sure he would have been honest with me."

Mrs. Bennet nodded to herself. Indeed it was what she anticipated. She decided to let her daughter come out of the bush at her speed.

"If you think you're not ready, we can adjourn and speak about it later. I'm always here for you."

Jane shook her head took a long breath and looked her mother in the eyes.

"Did Papa have Mistresses?"

Mrs. Bennet was quite astonished by her daughter's candor. She knew that it was coming but never would she have thought that she would ask so bluntly.

_Well, your fault, you asked for it_.

"Three I know of," was her immediate answer.

Jane's eyes were immediately large as saucers.

"You wanted to know, didn't you? And yes, your father wasn't the most faithful of all men. But he always had the decency to see them while being in Town. Never ever did he gallivant near Meryton."

She forced her daughter to relax.

"It was nothing of consequence, dear. He had his needs and we were estranged at that time. And we were too proud to really try and find a solution between the two of us." She laughed. "Let's look at those women as remedies and let's forget them. The present shows me that we could have mended everything had we but tried."

Jane nodded, but her mother felt that her answer wasn't as reassuring as she would have wished.

_Time to join the fray._

"Let's speak about Maureen then…" said she while trying to remain serious and poised.

Once more her daughter's eyes tried to pop out of her face.

"We are not blind, dear, and for my part I'm neither blind nor dumb. I was at your side when she said it to him–" She shook her head. "I was hoping you were still unconscious."

"I probably was," answered Jane. "But I heard it nevertheless. And now I feel guilty. He was hers bef–"

"He was nobody's before," countered her mother. "He was alone and haunted. And even if she was in love with him, he surely wasn't in love with her. Stop immediately feeling guilty it's insane and foolish."

She put her hand on her daughter's shoulders and pulled her.

"Let's speak of certainties, alright?"

Jane nodded reluctantly."

"Do you love him?"

"Of course, he–"

Mrs. Bennet stopped her. "No comments, just simple answers which describe your gut feelings, are we in agreement?"

Once more Jane nodded.

"Do you love him?"

"Yes" was the immediate answer.

"Does he love you?"

"Yes!"

Once more there was not the hint of a doubt in Jane's eyes.

Her mother's face was immediately alight with a very satisfied smile.

"That's a very good beginning. Everything else is secondary, but we will have to go through the whole process to be sure. But as for now I'm sure there won't be any problems between Geoffrey and you!"

She hesitated for the next question.

_No, not now, let her think about it with another._

"Do you trust your father?"

Jane frowned but didn't hesitate very long.

"Yes."

_Let's go then…_

"Do you trust Geoffrey?"

No hesitation this time, her mother's former question having already brought her daughter toward the answer.

"Yes" said Jane.

_Well, last important question._

"Do you trust yourself enough not to suspect Maureen to try to undermine your marriage?"

Jane just shook her head unable to speak the truth of her jealousy.

Mrs. Bennet embraced her and whispered in her ear.

"I'm glad you have that little fault dear. But jealousy is only a problem if you let it govern your life. Look at it coolly and try always to hold it at bay and you'll be alright."

Mrs. Bennet let her daughter go and sat back on the sofa.

"Now my last advice will be this: speak about Maureen with Geoffrey. Be direct and ask. Ask about his feelings, ask about the way he sees their future relationship. Ask about everything. Don't let your present awareness fester your relationship with him by staying silent." She smiled at her daughter. "Take the initiative and do what must be done to strengthen the bonds uniting you."

She didn't say more, but both had heard the underlying message.

_Don't make the same mistakes that your parents did._


	13. Remorse and Rebels

**Chapter Thirteen: Remorse and Rebels **

* * *

**Dublin, Thursday the 28th of September**

* * *

"They insist, _madame,_" said Benevento. "And they came directly to me."

Jane who had just learned that her husband was out of the Palace supervising the next steps of the campaign made a face and shrugged.

"Seems today will be a day of parleys and lengthy negotiations, Giacomo."

"Since Mrs. Darcy is not here, you have plenty of time." said Benevento with an ironic smile.

She smiled back at her husband's secretary. He was a rogue, but he and Lizzy had become great friends in mischief and one of Lizzy's friends couldn't be bad at the core.

"Indeed without her here and my husband being at the center of a military campaign I have plenty of time and I should rather welcome anything to pull me out of my injury induced boredom."

"I thought as much," snickered Benevento just before coming back to his most serious manners.

"And I really believe it's important, madame. I do believe they want to apologize! And it could be that they'll propose even more afterwards."

He looked at her with a question in the eyes.

"Bring them in, Giacomo. Let's get over with it."

* * *

They were six, six women from old to young. One of them was very young and at the head of the delegation, likely the spokeswoman.

And indeed she spoke after the necessary curtsies which Jane answered with a light nod and a broad smile.

"Welcome ladies," said Jane. "Monsieur Benevento pretends that this is important. And most of the time _HE_ knows the truth."

"Milady," said the young girl in a flawless London English. "I'm Abigail Coxworth and I'm here to speak in the name of Ireland's wives." She shrugged. "Even if I'm neither."

"Neither Irish nor a wife, you mean?" asked Jane.

Abigail nodded.

"That's the truth. Too young and too celibate to be a wife and too English to be Irish."

"And they chose you because…?"

"They fear you won't understand their coarse Irish Brogue. And I'm expendable if you should need a scapegoat."

That provoked a reaction in the delegation. And angry glances directed at the young woman.

Jane frowned at them and they immediately stopped muttering.

"Must I surmise that you are not a friend of them?"

"No, milady, I'm not. I'm a hostage here even if I was a friend of the Irish cause. But I just discovered that friendship does not survive necessity."

Jane frowned once more. Not because of what the young woman just said, but because she detected a falsehood in her tone. No doubt she was angry. But she clearly wasn't afraid. Not in the least. And that was strange.

Jane decided to test the ground a little more. This young person was willing to play a role she would know which it was very soon.

Jane let a little smile light her features, first, because she felt like smiling and also because, if some very biased family members had to be believed, it transformed her radically.

"Miss Coxworth, do you know at what my husband excels?"

"War and conquest?"

Jane shook her head.

"No, he says it himself, strategy and tactics are nothing without a good spy net able to collect the best information to keep the strategist aware of what he will be against. And you must be conscious that my husband has quite a lot of Irishmen who follow him. Do you really believe that anything which has happened in the last few months in Ireland could have stayed veiled and unfamiliar to him?"

Her counterpart sighed and her shoulders slumped.

"Probably not," she conceded. "But it was worth a try. Since you came I don't have many choices left. Since I refuse to just disappear, I'll have to go home, you know, and forced hostage would have had a much lighter impact on my father's mood than ugly traitor surely will have."

Jane did her best to stay stoically calm.

Geoffrey probably knew the truth about Miss Coxworth's real whereabouts, but since they had never had the opportunity to speak at length about his Irish campaign _she_ surely didn't.

"We could still maintain the sham" said Jane. "If you please could stop to play me for a fool, it would help."

She looked at the group and decided to let her heart take reigns. Who was the leader in this little motley group? Her eyes soon stopped upon a rather large matron who looked at her with more than a little aggression.

_Could be you but you're too evident. You want to be seen. You want me to pick you_.

She went on and soon disparaged two young rather athletic women. Neither was trying to look her in the eyes but both had what she called the Maureen look.

_Bodyguards._

Jane looked at the oldest who did her best to disappear in the crowd.

_Yes, she was important but Jane could feel that she wasn't the leader of the group. The two bodyguards were too anxious to include her ostensibly in their protection circles. _

She smiled at the last woman.

"Let's stop playing cat and mouse, I'm rather tired and I would prefer not to spend my time in silly power games. You asked for an urgent meeting, you've got it! Now either you use the opportunity or we just consider that we all got what we wanted and we stop here."

The woman she was looking at while speaking nodded and came forward.

"Alright," she said. "I'm Meryem Castillo. And I'm Dublin's temporary Shadow Governor."

Jane nodded an amused greeting.

"Delighted," said Jane. "A rather un-Irish name and a rather unusual title. What can I do for you?"

They looked at each other for a rather long time.

Meryem assessing the blonde wife of d'Arcy and Jane just letting her counterpart do what she thought was necessary.

"To begin with, accept our apologies for what happened."

Jane nodded.

"Apologies accepted and, even if you didn't ask for, forgiveness granted. There was too much anger accumulated to hope it wouldn't give birth to some problems. I'm grateful it came out in such a way that no atrocities were committed. Ireland had seen way too much of them already."

She saw that quite a few of her counterparts were relieved by her last sentences.

"We're sorry for your bodyguard" added Meryem. "We were afraid she wouldn't survive."

"My husband's physician is one of the best and Maureen was lucky inasmuch that Geoffrey had just got a supply of Chinese medicines that help greatly with healing open wounds. She'll be out of commission for quite a long time, but she'll be back with no consequences, but a silly conviction that only Irish will ever be able to stop her."

That brought out a few smiles.

"We will apologize to her in person as soon as we are allowed."

Jane looked at them.

"Were any of you present?"

There was a silence and, finally, one of the bodyguards came forth.

"I was and I shot… Don't know who I got!"

"Probably Maureen, she got three bullets for my one." She looked her in the eyes. "We did nothing to threaten you. Why did you shoot?"

"Somebody else shot the first bullet. Once it was begun, I was sure it was a fight to the death."

"Facing an unarmed woman?"

The bodyguard shrugged.

"Too much anger shrouding our wit. We were out to kill. Nobody could have stopped us."

Jane nodded.

"Maureen stopped your bullets and her dropping stopped you."

"Some of us died…"

"Killed by my Irish bodyguards" agreed Jane. "I'd like to be sure that no more idiotic deaths happen in the future." She looked at the bodyguard. "Thank for your frankness I appreciate it."

The woman redressed herself.

"I'm not daft; I won't make two mistakes in a row!"

Jane smiled.

"That's the spirit!" She came back to the _shadow governor_.

"So let's do our best to avoid new mistakes in the future. What do you propose? And who is it who came proposing?"

Meryem Castillo clenched her jaws.

"We are here because we want changes. The same changes the Welsh granted your brother in law to get him on the throne. We want a Republic where men and women are treated like equals."

Jane couldn't hide her surprise.

"The Welsh have accepted Fitzwilliam's conditions?"

Meryem Castillo nodded.

"All of them," she said. "We learned it today. The new Founding Principles of the Welsh Monarchy were officially published yesterday. We don't have a copy yet, but it is of tremendous importance. A Kingdom has accepted universal suffrage _and_ equality between men and women. Of course we want the same and we want you to give it to us."

That let Jane flabbergasted and open-mouthed.

"How could I? I'm nob–"

"You're the one," rudely interrupted the Irish spokeswoman, "who got the liberation of England's gentry while your husband was adamant to settle them two thousand miles away. We are sure that it was yours and your sister's doing that the next Welsh King stated those conditions. You and your sister clearly have the ear of your husbands. You can do it."

Jane's smile had disappeared a long time ago.

"Since you just failed to kill me, is this your next attempt to get rid of me?"

That got her everybody's attention.

"I really hope that you are the only ones who believe this," she hesitated, "crap! And even more that you haven't blabbered about your idiotic belief! Because if you have, it means that I'll have every religious fanatic in Europe going after my throat. And since Ireland has its own bunch of religious fanatics it happens that I'm probably never again going to be able to get safely out of this Castle."

Miss Coxworth spoke as soon as there was a lapse in Jane's flow.

"We came immediately. We spoke to nobody. We wanted to get your approval as soon as possible!"

"My approval for what?" asked Jane through clenched teeth.

"To be the leader of the Cause, of course!" answered Miss Coxworth. "You are the future of womankind and we are here to follow you and to be at your service! We will wage war in your name!"

That smothered Jane's blossoming anger as surely as a gust of wind can snuff a burning candle.

She forced herself to breathe and to relax.

Slowly she leant back into her armchair and made a placating gesture with her hands.

"Please, let's speak about everything in a gentle and civilized manner."

She waved her hand to invite everybody to sit.

"I'm listening; tell me what you have to say."

* * *

"I'm rather proud, to tell the truth," smiled Geoffrey while embracing his upset wife. "Had you asked me, I would have said they have chosen the best woman available."

She wiggled around to be able to look in his eyes.

"You can't be serious. Their scheme is insane."

He made a doubtful face.

"Not really, dear. You're my wife and as such you're the best candidate for their little arrangement. I'm here to protect you and you're here to get what they want for them."

She frowned at him.

"And it doesn't shock you? They are using me!"

He shrugged.

"So is Napoleon using me!" He kissed her. "But being used to do what you would have done anyway, is it still being used?"

Jane shook her head.

"I wouldn't have done it."

He looked at her with a little ironic smile.

"You wouldn't have? Are you sure? I'm quite sure indeed that you wouldn't have done it within the next few months." He slipped his hands carefully between their shared bellies. It was still too early but soon he would be able to feel them. "Because of them! Because you're in your protective mother outfit, that's why. But were they not there to remind you that you must be careful –and even they, if I remember a few days ago, are not enough to stop you taking insane risks– you would probably be doing exactly what those women expect you to do!"

She shook her head with conviction.

She probably even believed it. But he knew better. He had seen her soul that August day when she stood up to fight those ruffians. Hers was the heart of a fighter and a fighter never wavers before joining the fray.

He kissed her and smiled at his marvelous impish wife.

"It's my fault, love, I showed you how to fly and now I'm reluctant to let you lift off. Because I'm scared I could fail to protect you. Deep down in my gut it goes against my wish to build a safe harbor around you, to put you forever out of harm's reach. But that would make me your jailer and I can't do that. I won't be the man who made you blossom to smother you out of fear and lack of confidence in you."

He put his arms around her and held her just tightly enough to show her that she mattered a lot but not enough to hurt her.

"Open your wings, my love and soar towards the future without fear or reluctance. I'll be at your side and I'll help you forever."

* * *

"Are you asleep?"

He wasn't. The day had been difficult and the news coming from all over Ireland wasn't very satisfying. They would free the country but there would be crimes and massacres. He just couldn't send troops fast enough to quench all the accumulated anger.

His Irish allies had sent dozens of couriers in every possible direction with his very strong advice –suspicious people could have called them threats– but he knew that some wouldn't listen, or wouldn't be able to hold back their angry people.

Hopefully only guilty individuals would feel the people's wrath.

Hopefully…

"Not yet, _mon amour_. I was thinking about the way the Irish Freedom Fighters would behave in the near future. I just don't have enough troops to cover the whole country within the next week. Surprise got me an easy victory but with so few troops I fear there will be massacres."

He felt her crawl up his side.

"I'm sure you've done what was in your power, Geoffrey. There was no unnecessary bloodshed in England because there was no bad blood between the opposing sides. Here there is bad blood, very bad blood. Even Maureen has difficulty not lashing out wildly around her when she encounters English officers or soldiers."

"For now that problem should be resolved. She's out of anyone's sight for a few more days. And I hope very much that those soldiers and officers are off of the island when she's 'healed'."

He felt and heard her sighed.

"Indeed there's that, but it's not the only problem we have with Maureen…"

He nodded. It was not always easy to live with a very sensitive wife.

"Indeed, we have another problem with her, dear, a personal one which could be a source of major disruptions in our life."

She leaned up and he felt by the way her hair brushed his breast that she was shaking her head.

"No, it won't." she said.

"It won't?"

Once more she shook her head. "What solution do we have, my love?"

He shrugged and sighed. "I could send her to Paris. I have a staff there, she could be charged with their protection. She wouldn't lose in the bargain."

The denial was more vehement this time.

"I can't accept that. She's not a servant that I can send away just because of what she feels about my husband. I'm in her debt. Without that drug she would be dead, which means that she gave her life up to save mine."

He felt a tear drop on his breast and roll down his neck.

"These last weeks she watched us love each other; becoming each day happier." She sniffed. "She was even sleeping in the room beside ours! And all the time she was in love with you. It must have been hell for her. I wonder if _I_ could have withstood it."

He embraced her more tightly. She needed to feel his support.

"A lesser human being would have hesitated, would have thought about what she could win if she happened to be just a little slower. She didn't! She jumped between me and the mob and took the bullets I was supposed to get. What greater proof of loyalty can there be?"

"It could be," said Geoffrey "that she just wanted to die."

He felt her contract from head to foot.

"No, a woman in love doesn't kill herself. She could have tried to kill you or even me. But committing suicide is out of the question."

Was she right for all women in love? He didn't know, but for that peculiar woman he agreed. Maureen was not the kind of woman to go down without a fight.

"So what can we do?" he whispered.

She straightened and he saw her looking in his eyes.

"What do you feel for her?"

He knew that that specific question was coming his way. He was ready.

"If what I feel for you is the rule then I don't love her. But that said, I feel more for her than any other living being. She's more than a friend and much more than an old mistress. She could have been more than a mistress if she hadn't been my mirror image."

He forced her to come back and she snuggled above him.

"It's difficult to describe. When you and I are in each other's arms I feel our souls singing together, my love. And it gives me peace and a wish to just go on loving. With her, our souls weren't singing they were howling in concert longing after our enemies' blood."

He shook his head.

"It wasn't an easy relationship, but it gave us mutual support. She helped me to stay human."

Jane kissed his shoulder and fought for words.

"So I owe her your sanity and my life. That's a debt I can only repay by not betraying her."

"What do you mean?"

She closed her eyes and forced herself to commune with her inner self, that inner self that healed her and gave her strength while she was dying.

And soon the answer was there.

"Give her what she needs: love."

He frowned. _What could she mean_?

Jane went on, "I refuse to let jealousy rule over my life. I love you more than I could have believed possible and it's only because of Maureen that I'm still able to live and love and cry in your arms. I refuse to be the reason for her despair. If she needs your love, don't deny it to her!"

He took her face in his hands and brushed a kiss on her wet cheeks.

"You want me to take her as my mistress?"

"No," came the immediate answer, "I want you to share our love with her. How could I condemn a woman who feels the same way I feel? How could I deny her what she needs to survive?"

He felt that she was crying even more than before.

"I know… you don't need her…but if she needs you…I have no right…to stop you should you decide to be at her side."

He didn't find words which would have expressed his amazement.

Never would he have thought that–

"One last thing, love" said Jane with a voice where all tremor was gone. "There can't ever be a secret between us on this matter. I'm willing to share so let it be a gift from _us_ to her. Let's be sure that it never becomes an ugly little secret that besmirches our love."

He swore and soon they proved to each other that their love was the most inspiring thing they shared.


	14. Irish Truths

**Chapter Fourteen: Irish truths**

* * *

**Friday the 29th of September**

* * *

"Of course, you'll go," said d'Arcy when his wife tried to protest. "One of us must be there and since officially you're still injured it will be a good thing for you to join your sister's party as soon as possible."

"What about you?" she asked.

"I should be there for the Coronation; it would be a good diplomatic move. But I really shouldn't just when my men are launching an attack against the Northern part of Ireland. It's my duty to be with them."

Jane nodded but her mood was swinging between two opposites emotions. She was more than happy to be able to see Lizzy much sooner than ever expected and she was very distressed to have to leave her husband behind.

"I don't like going alone," she said.

"You won't be alone," said d'Arcy with a smile. "Your whole family will be aboard, not including Maureen and quite a few of Kennedy's men. I want you safe and secure."

"Last time we were not together, we were both injured." she whispered.

"I promised you that I won't ever again linger on a defusing bomb, I won't perjure myself."

Jane made a face and tried a little smile at his attempt at humor. "When do you want me to go?"

"I'd like you to go as soon as possible, today would be the best. But I'll need to see my staff before letting you go. If they agree to my absence, I'll probably take the opportunity to come with you. To be able to make the journey to Cardiff without losing too much time, I'll need my fastest ship and since you're going to use it, too, the best use of my time would probably be to embark on the "Dame de Coeur" with you, assist with the coronation and come back immediately after."

"So soon?"

"Yes," he said. "But I'll return to Ireland without you."

He stopped her protest with a gentle finger brushing her lips.

"I'll send you my ship back as soon as I'm in Ireland so, you can come back to Ireland anytime you please. But I won't be in Dublin for the next three weeks. I'll be campaigning at the head of my troops. I need to take Belfast and Londonderry as soon as possible and I would be reassured if I knew you were safe and sound at your sister's side."

"I could join you."

He shrugged. He was very tempted to forbid her to go but he knew it would be in vain. So he tried another approach.

"You'll do as you please, but there is a risk that you'll spend days chasing after me without ever even spotting me. And it really would be better for my peace of mind to know you are at your sister's side. I swear that I'll bring you to my side as soon as the land is secured."

She nodded, sighed and kissed him lightly.

"I'll go tell mama and papa. We'll prepare the trunks and embark as soon as possible." She slipped into his embrace. "I know I shouldn't insist, but, please, come with us." She sighed and looked him in the eyes. "I really need you at my side these next hours. Please."

He untangled himself with difficulty from her fierce embrace.

"I'll let you know as soon as possible if I can to come with you." He took her hand and kissed it. "I'll do my best."

* * *

"Go," said Duroc. "We don't need you to mop up! The British troops lost their fighting spirit a long time ago, even before we set foot here in Ireland. Your strategy is sound and we will be able to go on without you." He smiled. "Just don't forget to send us those lazy cavalrymen. They are shit soldiers, but their horses are useful. What we need is a better police force to contain the so-called freedom fighters, not an army. The boys are quite happy with the way they are received by the population –the female part of the population at least– but they won't look at a lengthy stay here with much pleasure. There are rumors about an alliance with Russia to crush the Turks. They long to finish what we began a few years ago."

He came nearer and whispered.

"She seems shaken, don't leave her alone. Think of your family for once." He spoke louder. "We are able to do the job here, Boss! Even more so if we finally get those cavalry units."

D'Arcy laughed.

"If they followed orders they are embarking in Bristol as we speak. So they should be in Dublin in two days' time. I expect you'll get twenty thousand more soldiers within three days."

"Let's wait till they are here, then," said Kellermann. "It is always better to regroup before launching an offensive. And you could be there with us."

D'Arcy nodded.

"Alright I go to Cardiff and come back soon after. Wait for me before moving the bulk of the army, but I want the cavalry on Ireland's roads as soon as they are here! They'll have to do strictly the same job as they were these last weeks in England." He looked at Duroc. "Be adamant with Murat; no major attack even if it seems tempting. I want secured roads and happy civilians. I have no use for martyrs!"

Duroc made a face.

"You know Béssières and I are not real friends, but I know that he is the more cautious commander. If you give him overall control of all cavalry units, he'll do the job without fuss."

D'Arcy nodded and summoned his secretary.

"Benevento, prepare said orders. Duroc gets overall command of all the infantry, artillery and logistic train while Bessières gets the overall command of the whole cavalry. And my orders are simple: show the flag everywhere and let nobody doubt that we mean business and that we are here to stay until the last British soldier has surrendered." He tapped Duroc on the shoulder. "Go on with the battle plan and all should go well indeed."

"I'll do what I can, Boss! Now stop procrastinating. Your brother's coronation awaits you."

Just as d'Arcy was stepping outside he called him back.

"Don't forget to get seamstresses and lots of fabrics on board with you. Your womenfolk will love to have something new and shiny to wear at their arrival. And they'll want even shinier dresses for the Coronation."

D'Arcy stopped and looked, astonished at his friend.

"Since when are you–"

"Try having a daughter at home, d'Arcy, and you'll come to it faster than you believed it possible."

* * *

"I'm so happy you chose to come," said Jane while nuzzling against her husband under his large raincoat. The weather was awful and she was unable to even see the Prow of the ship from where she stood. Not that she tried to see anything with her face lying on her husband's chest and her eyes happily closed.

"I'm happy to be at your side, _mon amour,_" came the whispered answer. "I hope the weather will improve soon. I hate it when I can't see my own hands in front of me. There could be anything out there."

"I rather like it to be snuggling against you while breathing fresh sea air. With you at my side there's sunshine in my heart."

He kissed her brow and embraced her tighter.

"And that sunshine warms me as no fire could."

He frowned at the misty rain.

"You should go down, dear. You need a new wardrobe. I want you to be the most beautiful woman of the coronation."

"That will be Lizzy, dear. And I won't try to steal it from her."

"You could wear a holed blanket you would still be the most beautiful woman on earth."

That granted him a passionate kiss.

"You no longer need to seduce me, dear, I'm already all yours."

"I'll seduce you till the end of time. Because my best memories ever are from when I was courting you."

She embraced him tighter.

"Attend me downstairs, please. I'll have a look at those fabrics you brought. Hopefully there are still some left."

"There are a few rolls of turquoise and blue and white silk in your cabin. You know I love it when you wear those colors. Especially the white silk underwear. I love it when they smoothly slip down along your luscious curves."

She laughed and kissed him.

"Since it happens that I'm wearing just some of those, you should get what you want very soon now. And since those colors are also my favorites it won't be too difficult to please my husband with a new dress."

* * *

"Miss Duroc," bowed d'Arcy when he entered the Mess room of the 'Dame de Coeur'.

Emilie Duroc stood and curtsied in response. Mary Bennet who was in her company smiled proudly at her ward. She gave d'Arcy her best welcome smile.

"Monsieur d'Arcy".

D'Arcy looked at Mary Bennet who was the only person in company of Duroc's daughter.

"You're not with your mother, Miss Bennet?"

"We'll go soon, Sir. But for now the seamstresses are busy on Mama and Lydia." She smiled at Emilie. "We will wait out our turn. We've already chosen the fabric for our dresses. No need to crowd my parent's cabin more than necessary. And even if we are not indifferent to matters of fashion, we both prefer a good book about philosophy than endlessly talk about the lay of a ribbon."

"But we will soon go, monsieur," said Emilie. "We wouldn't want to shame you or the Countess."

He snickered.

"There will never be such a risk, mademoiselle. And as for the Countess, I do believe she prefers not to be referred to with any title. We are no longer a Kingdom, you remember?"

Emilie made a face.

"I don't agree monsieur. The Consulate's Constitution is clearly that of a Monarchy and could even, if one is frank, be considered a Tyranny."

D'Arcy tsked loudly.

"Mademoiselle Duroc, you should stop being so frank in front of strangers. It could bring you into danger, especially if you're right and we are bowing under the rule of a Tyrant."

Emilie looked around her.

"I'm sure nobody here will ever lower herself to be Fouchet's informant. And I'm quite sure you, monsieur, already know everything about my opinions about France's political system."

D'Arcy shook his head.

"Another of those smart women who believes me omniscient," he chided. "I must deny that I know everything!" He smiled at the young girl. "There are things I ignore especially about people I trust because I trust them. And you and your father being trusted friends of my family do enter into this category."

"Which is foolish, monsieur," countered Emilie. "Trust is a fickle matter. I'm not sure that Papa would not betray you if he was put before the choice of losing me."

D'Arcy's smile betrayed his tenderness.

"And so should he because you are his most precious possession, mademoiselle Duroc." His smile disappeared. "And that's exactly the reason why there are always half a company of trusted bodyguards around you and the Bennets. You are our foibles and I won't let anyone use you against us."

"We do know that, monsieur. And we accept the boundaries it inflicts on us."

"I do thank you for that."

"No need, monsieur. It's only natural that we take into account the necessities of our safety."

D'Arcy nodded at Mary.

"Do you agree with your ward?"

Mary nodded.

"I do and even Lydia who was, a long time ago, a headstrong and independent creature is now quite convinced that we need to be surrounded by a heavy force of bodyguards." She smiled sarcastically. "Even if I do believe it's more because of the importance it grants her than because of any real understanding of security procedures."

"Only the results matter, Miss Bennet. In the end only the results matter!"

He bowed.

"I'm back to the bridge. There's nothing to be seen, but it reassures me to be at the helm."

Both females nodded goodbye and went soon back to their reading.

* * *

"Miss Bennet."

Mary looked up and frowned. She had quite a knowledge now of Emilie Duroc and the tone of her voice, a little too shrill to be natural told her that she was about to speak about important matters.

She chose to tell her that she knew.

"Yes, Miss Duroc?"

Emilie immediately burst out a laugh.

"You really know me quite well, Miss Bennet."

She was rewarded with one of Mary's very rare full smiles.

"We do see each other quite a lot, dear. I suppose it helps."

Emilie hesitated before speaking.

"Well, my question is in relation to the fact that we see each other quite a lot." She smiled at Mary, a rather shy little smile that wasn't Emilie's usual confident smile. "And I must say that I like very much being with you."

"So do I," answered Mary. "I have told you more than once that you are, despite your young age, one of the finest minds I ever encountered. It's a pleasure to talk with you about all those topics we share a love for."

Emilie nodded strangely.

"I do know and you must know that you are the only grown-up with whom I do feel myself secure in not being a loved, but rather stupid little pet."

"I'm sure your father doesn't consider you as such. He's a very considerate man who shows every respect for his darling daughter's superior mind."

"You do like Papa, don't you?"

Mary frowned and looked suspiciously at her young ward.

"Indeed, I do. Behind the general with such a reputation for ruthlessness I've discovered a rather sensitive and brilliant mind."

Emilie smiled at her.

"He is smart, isn't he? Not as smart as monsieur d'Arcy but then who is as smart as monsieur d'Arcy, but a lot smarter than most men, yes?"

Mary agreed with a nod.

"He…" said Emilie but Mary stopped her with a hand movement.

"Emilie, do you really believe your father would envision to," she hesitated, "look at me differently than the woman with whom you share much of your time?"

Emilie looked at her feet.

"I don't know," she said while making a face. "I tried to ask him if he was interested in marrying anew, but I believe he refused to answer."

"And your question was asked with me in relation with the marrying thing?"

Emilie nodded strongly.

"Of course! Who else? You're just perfect. You'd be the ideal mother for me." She frowned. "I've looked at other women. _Madame_ d'Arcy would be a good choice, even if she's more emotional than you. And her Latin is so perfect; I hope someday to be as proficient as her." She sighed. "But since she is already married, I suppose we can consider she's not available."

She stopped a few moments to think about her experience.

"There's Lydia and I do like her a lot and I believe that in her own practical way she is as smart as you and _Madame_ d'Arcy but I'm sure she would never spend more than an hour reading philosophy with me. And that would be a shame, wouldn't it?"

She made a face.

"I looked at other women, but I do find them superficial and silly."

"Even Maureen?"

"Of course not, but then Maureen is not a woman, she's a fighter. And I believe one fighter at home is more than enough."

She shook her head and smiled at Mary.

"No, you'd be perfect and I'll ask Papa as soon as we are back."

"I would prefer that you don't, dear. It's rather awkward, you know. I wouldn't have him believing that I manipulated you in order to ask him for me."

Emile frowned and bit her lips while thinking.

"You are perhaps right" said she finally. "Asking directly won't do. I'll have to find a way to bring him over. I'll think about it."

And soon she was back in her reading.

Mary could only shake her head and smile.

Emilie was a very dear and sensible young girl and she loved being with her hour after hour feeding her fine mind with knowledge and wisdom. But marrying Duroc?

No, never. He wouldn't even contemplate such a match…  
Or would he?

Probably not.

Why would such a handsome and famous man even look at her?

She did find a few answers to her question. She soon found it difficult to concentrate on her lines and finally gave way to a rather disturbing day dream.

* * *

"Jane?"

"Yes, dear," said her sister while turning around.

"Could I ask you a question?"

"Of course, why not?"

Mary hesitated.

"It's a rather awkward question and I don't really know how to ask."

Jane frowned first than smiled and took her sister's hand.

"Come with me, let's speak somewhere discreet."

Two minutes later she was closing the door to her apartment.

It has another naval name, as did the apartment but since it was exactly that, a door and an apartment, she didn't try to hide behind technicalities.

"What's the matter, Mary dear?"

Mary took a long and deep breath before looking her sister in the eyes.

"Emilie wants me to marry her father."

That let Jane really flabbergasted. Mary and Duroc? What a–

She forced herself to stop immediately. Why not after all? Duroc was a very pleasant man and a very sensible father.

And Emilie was very fond of Mary. And that point was a very good base for becoming a step mother.

"Emilie asked you?"

"Not really," smiled Mary. "Let's say that she informed me of my prospects."

"Oh," whispered Jane. "Isn't she a very determined young girl?"

"That she is," agreed Mary. "But that's not wh–"

"Indeed," interrupted Jane, "it is not."

She took her sister by the arm and together they sat on the bed.

"If you want to know what I think about you marrying Duroc, I can just say that it is a problem only the three of you will be able to solve. But to cut a long tale short, I think you'd be perfect as Madame Duroc. His first wife was a smart and educated woman and Geoffrey has told me how he was devastated when she died giving birth to Emily. He's a sensible and pleasant man who had his share of unhappiness. You being the most level-headed woman I know, you could really be the strength he needs to recover definitively from his ordeal. And Emilie loves you… That's even more important that everything else. If Emilie wants you as a mother, I'm quite sure that's a battle her father has already lost."

She looked her sister in the eyes.

"What do you think, dear? More important; what do you want?"

Mary sighed.

"I really don't know. Never would I–"

Jane spoke up. "Don't say never, dear! As I have proven everything is possible, but you must believe in yourself. You're not boring, you're not plain and you're not dull! So wonder about what you wish and what you are ready to do to get it!"

She took her sister's hand and smiled.

"Would it agree with you to be Mrs. Duroc?"

"He is handsome and more than impressive." Mary smiled shyly. "To say the truth, the idea is more than enticing, but I doubt he will ever think the same about me."

Jane shook her head.

"Stop it immediately. Don't forget you have a formidable ally within that fortress. Let her do the job of convincing and let the happy father come out of his isolation to convince you. You'll be surprised at how easy it will be for him to think about you."


	15. Encounter at Sea

**Chapter Fifteen: Welsh Sea Encounter**

* * *

**Saturday the 30th of September**

* * *

"Look at her," whispered Lizzy. "One could believe she's the one going to be crowned."

Lady Catherine was standing statue-like at the ship's prow and was looking royally regal.

Fitzwilliam smiled at his wife's anger. The little war she and his aunt were fighting hadn't abated at all. The little journey had been intertwined with quite a few verbal battles.

"She always was a proud woman and now it seems that she has even more reason to be proud."

"She's a peacock and a loud-mouth," hissed his Lizzy who had found in his aunt the perfect vessel for her venom. "We should have come without her."

"It will be the most important event in the family history. They all had a right to assist, even the awful aunt."

"She could have taken her own means of travel," spit Lizzy.

He shook head.

"Don't be so narrow-minded. We proposed to take the whole family with us. And I wanted Anne to be at my side during the journey. She's always of good counsel. And, as you know, one doesn't come without the other."

"She's our guest, how is it that she cannot stop insulting me?"

"Because you answer, dear," he said with a smile. "She's spent twenty years making allusions –or worse– in my company. I never answered. At the beginning out of awe, but soon out of indifference! You are the first human being who's neither groveling nor whimpering at her feet. She revels in your fights and I really believe that they give her quite a lot of pleasure. You should try calm and smiling as does Jane. With her it never goes beyond one or two spikes. Not reacting to her spite deflates her quite efficiently."

"Never," shot Lizzy. "That's one battle I'm determined to win!"

He laughed and pulled her against him.

"I love you very much, dear, but on that matter you're wrong and you'll never win. She's a very thick-hided dragon, you'll never get through."

"I have sharp fangs, I'll draw blood, you'll see!"

He nodded and forced her to come with him to the stern where the Gardiners where conversing with Anne and Kitty. General Fitzwilliam was standing alone beside the helm and looking at the sea, probably hoping to see the Royal Navy coming to sink them.

Anne looked at Lizzy, smiled at her gritting teeth and shook her head.

"As long as you let her have her way with you, she'll win. I know it, she did it for quite a long time with me. Stop reacting and she'll stop assaulting you."

"How could I not react? She's so, so…" She was desperately searching for words sufficiently mean to describe what she felt when her aunt Gardiner let out a mirthful laugh.

"I fear Lizzy dear that you enjoy your fights with her as much as she." She pointed a joyful finger at her favorite niece. "Be careful there or she could very well induce you to become like her." She shivered. "Imagine a world with a second Aunt Catherine?"

"You're not funny," pouted Lizzy. Clearly she didn't approve of her aunt's inference.

"It's easy for you to look at it as if it were a game. She's not targeting you, you fortunate soul."

Fitzwilliam winked discreetly at his aunt who with a little head bow accepted to stop teasing Lizzy.

"Let's not speak of her, then," said Mrs. Gardiner. "How long till Cardiff?"

"Three hours," answered the General who just joined them. "Perhaps a little less if the wind holds."

"And then the circus begins," whispered Darcy.

"And then the circus begins," approved Richard. He shook his head and smiled at his cousin. "By God I can't believe it that you'll soon be King." He smiled teasingly. "Well, more Kinglet than King but that's a matter of appreciation."

Darcy frowned and lifted haughtily his chin.

"Well there shatters the career of Fieldmarshall Richard Fitzwilliam Matlock! Clearly a man with too little political clout to know when to shut up!"

Everybody, even Richard laughed at Darcy's witticism.

"Perhaps I'll be able to convince Duroc to join Wales? With his reputation no English general will ever be gutsy enough to attack with him at the head of Welsh armies…"

Richard shrugged. "No English general will ever envision an attack against Wales! What for? We have already one of our straw men who's about to become Kinglet there!"

"I do know a cousin who will end that journey swimming," threatened Darcy.

"No problem," answered Richard. "I'm cavalry, you remember, I do know how to swim contrary to sailors and other Navy officers!"

Richard cast a belittling glance at the "Gloire". "I will probably even be there before this bucket."

The taunting would probably have gone on for quite a long time if a shout out of the lookout hadn't interrupted.

"Ship in sight! Coming north east to port side."

All eyes turned toward the prow and soon there was a sail visible.

The ship captain was at his passengers' side in less than a minute holding a spy glass before his eyes.

"Strange riggings," he mumbled. "Could be a Moorish pirate, but I don't know what he would do in these waters. Damn speedy bucket, that one… Twelve or thirteen knots… Luckily she's ahead of us. Probably going to Cardiff or Liverpool."

"Changing course," signaled the sailor in the look-out. "Going to intercept."

"Well that's not good news" grumbled the Captain. "What colors, man? Have you seen a flag?"

"Not yet," came the answer. "Too far away. But I do recognize the riggings, Sir."

* * *

"It's the Gloire," said the captain to d'Arcy. "Crawling slowly to Cardiff I suppose."

"Could it be Fitzwilliam and Lizzy?" asked Jane while craning her neck to have a better view.

"They are still under the horizon, dear, don't hope to see anything from the bridge for quite some time."

He looked at the Captain.

"How long to Cardiff?"

"We could be there in less than two hours. The Gloire will need more time."

"Can we go board to board and still be in Cardiff before the night?"

The Captain nodded.

"Easily, Sir. If there's nobody of interest aboard we just go on with our journey. If there is we could sail in concert and still arrive in time."

"Well, let's go see if I can capture another King!"

Jane frowned immediately at him.

"I was joking, _mon amour_, Fitzwilliam is family I wouldn't."

She shook her head and pulled him out of the captain's hearing range.

"I wasn't frowning because of your stupid jest, monsieur d'Arcy".

Her use of his name was bad. Not as bad as the use of his title but bad enough.

"I was referring to the word 'another'! Who's the other one?"

He went as fast as he could down the list of campaigns and battles he had fought up to now. And he couldn't find another.

_Time to_ _improvise_.

"It was in Syria. We captured the _Bey of Aleppo_. In Syria it was the equivalent of a King."

She shot him a dubious look.

"If I remember correctly there are no Kings in the Ottoman Empire, only public servants nominated by the Caliph. And Syria was an Ottoman principality." She lifted an eyebrow and her eyes –Thanks to God– were sparkling. "We should perhaps go to our apartment to end this conversation, _monsieur mon époux_. I'm quite sure you have a few interesting confessions to make to your loving wife."

"I have nothing to confess," tried d'Arcy. "It was a lapse of the tongue!"

"And I'm the Pope's Mistress," teased Jane while pulling her husband. "Let's go, I'm quite impatient to know the truth."

"There's no truth."

"There's always truth," she answered. "And if I have to tickle you to death to get it, I'll do it."

"I'll resist," he warned.

She stopped and her smile became impish. "We shall see…"

* * *

"What's that?" asked Richard.

"A ship," answered Lizzy with a little smile.

"Indeed I know that! But look at how she is built. And how is it possible to sail that fast with the wind coming from south. She's lying on the water."

"Indeed," said Mr. Gardiner, "her design is quite revolutionary. With such speed it should be possible to half the travel time on long range commerce. With ships like this one we could double our profit in no time."

Richard wasn't listening. He had just seen the two enormous guns built into the middle bridge.

"That's no merchant," grumbled Richard. "It's a war ship, a small warship with big teeth, very big teeth!" He grabbed the captain's telescope and began examining the guns.

"Ingenious those ramps," he whispered. "They climb with the shot and then glide back in position. By Jove they've got a breech-loader." He swore. "And I'm sure their stocks are rifled! She probably has twice the normal naval range, if not more!"

He handed the telescope back.

"I must look at those guns!" He looked at the Captain. "Can we go nearer?"

"I fear I won't let you spy any more than necessary, general," answered the Captain with a frown. "And to be very sure that you won't go on with those immoral activities of yours I'm going to insist you return to your cabin immediately."

Richard didn't argue! He had already seen what he wanted and if it had been done by French craftsmen it could be done by English ones.

No doubt there!

He had a few sketches to draw while the images were fresh in his mind.

"Under protest," he said in order to save face. And soon he was below deck in his cabin with two French soldiers on guard duty before his door and himself scribbling like mad.

* * *

"Can I go on the Gloire?" asked Jane who was waving at Lizzy, Kitty and Fitzwilliam who stood a few hundred meters away on the Gloire's bridge.

"Sorry, _mon amour,_ but no," answered d'Arcy. "It's too risky while sailing. And we can't afford to stop. We are only two hours out of Cardiff, you'll have to wait a little more before embracing the Darcys."

He caught her in his arms, closed them around her and forced her to jump back off the railing.

"And stop waving like a silly girl while standing on the railing; you could fall in the water. Not to forget that you're injured, remember?"

She kissed him and embraced his arms holding her.

"I'm so happy to see her."

He kissed the top of her head and smiled.

"And I'm happy because you're happy."

She kissed his hand.

"And not a word to the Darcys or anybody else about the Georges," he whispered. "Nobody knows, not even Napoleon. And I need it to remain so for another week or so."

"I promised," she answered. "And I thank you."

He snickered. "Your husband is an old fool besotted by his lovely wife and no longer able to look at the realities of this world, I hope you see what you've done to him?"

"I do," she whispered back. "And I love him all the more."

* * *

"She doesn't seem injured," said Darcy while discreetly scrutinizing the "Dame de Coeur".

It was a very fine and elegant ship. And sharp fangs even if they had been a few minutes ago hastily covered with tarp and canvas.

"She looks indeed fine," agreed Lizzy. "And look at Papa, up there on the scales. He's behaving like a young fool. Why doesn't mama call him back? He could fall into the sea."

"He's much brawnier than you think," said Darcy. "He won't fall. And visibly he is very happy to see us."

He waved back in direction of d'Arcy's ship.

She snuggled herself into his arms.

* * *

"The family will soon be reunited. I wouldn't have bet on such a reunion for years," whispered Lizzy.

"Well our brother is full of surprises," grumbled Darcy. "Thank God there are, from time to time, a few good ones in the lot."

"He brought tremendous changes in all our lives," whispered Lizzy. "It's incredible what has happened in so few weeks. Would you have thought it possible to witness so much in so short a time?"

He shook his head.

"No and even if, for us, these few weeks have been gloriously full of happy events, it's not so for our Country. We've lost a war and all of our heartland. It still hurts me."

"We'll soon be in our new Country. Are you really sure you'll be able to endure what could be seen as an exile?"

"It's not," he answered. "It's a chance to save a part of our heritage. And if one day there's a renewal of England I'll stop being King of Wales at the first occasion."

"Not without getting at least the same conditions as those we got in Wales," said Lizzy. "What we got, we preserve!"

He refrained from answering.

The Welsh had granted them their three conditions to get a King, the English would grant the same to get back a quarter of their lost territory. And if not he would remain King! And that was that!

Who knows, perhaps by then he would have taken a liking to being in power and hang onto it like mad?

Stranger things had happened in History!

And Power was, it had been often proved, the most corrupting of all businesses.

* * *

Two hours and a few minutes later the little fleet entered Cardiff's port.

It took the port authorities less than a quarter of an hour to react to the arrivals. Darcy was greeted first, Noblesse Oblige, and a little cheering crowd was soon coming together around them. The reception was a little awkward since Darcy wasn't not yet a King and not even scion of the Welsh Aristocracy. So they had opted for a less formal but more natural greeting.

Normally the King and his followers would have been ushered toward the Castle, but d'Arcy's arrival and Lizzy's strong determination to embrace parents and sisters forced them to delay.

So the same officials who came to greet the King stayed to greet the French Proconsul with the same informal easiness. Informal easiness, which reached its height when Lizzy embraced her family, d'Arcy included, with no formality at all.

Darcy and d'Arcy finally were facing each other and for a few minutes it was as if the time had begun to slow. And then d'Arcy walked toward his brother and embraced him.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty," he whispered. "Let it be very clear: I did nothing to get you on the Welsh Throne, but if asked I will never deny it."

"And you do well not to because nobody would believe you!"

D'Arcy's smile broadened.

"People are so gullible, don't you agree?"

"Indeed they are," agreed Darcy. "Look at me, who would have thought of me becoming King?"

"I would have," answered d'Arcy with sparkling eyes.

"Of course you would, but you're not normal, you are a monstrous plotter, brother!"

"My wife likes me as I am."

"That's because she looks at the world through a pink haze, she's way too good for you!"

"And your wife isn't?"

Darcy snorted. "Perhaps, but I wouldn't want her anywhere else."

D'Arcy just nodded and stopped there his little exchange with his brother to look at his wife.

His wife and his brother's, to say the truth. Because the second they they've put foot on Welsh soil they had been in each other's arms. Grinning and crying and babbling.

They were the perfect image of happiness. He knew she was happy with him, that her life was full and interesting, but somewhere deep inside her there was a hole and that hole disappeared the moment she was with her sister.

Since he loved her even more when she was whole and exultant he would have to do something to give them a chance to be together in the future.

He had a few ideas but it would take time to get them into motion.

But that was of no importance because, for the first time in his whole life, he was no longer in a hurry.


	16. Welsh Welcome

**Chapter Sixteen: Welsh Welcome**

* * *

**Saturday the 30th of September**

* * *

Lord Abercranby, the head of the Welsh Temporary Government shook his head at d'Arcy.

"Sorry, we thought you en route to Louisiana, so there's nothing really ready to receive such a famous guest as you."

D'Arcy smiled at the old politician.

"Everything's ready on my side, my Lord! The day you gave your proposition to my brother men of mine got orders to make sure that the day I should come to Wales I and my family can live here without imposing on anyone."

Abercranby who knew that quite a few buildings in Cardiff –_and elsewhere_– had been bought and rebuilt these last few weeks was satisfied to have guessed what –_who_– was behind the scenes.

"Even if we haven't been able to prepare a State Welcome, we still _do_ have the means to provide lodgings for you and the rest of your household."

He glanced at Jane, Lizzy and their sisters who were quite oblivious to the rest of the world while chatting, giggling and commenting.

"And of course you and your wife do have an apartment on the same storey as their Majesties." He smiled at him. "Had we known, we could probably have provided apartments with easier access to each other but as it is I fear that it won't be possible immediately."

D'Arcy bowed while smiling.

"Don't worry, my Lord. I'm quite sure that if they want to be alone to chat they'll find a way. They always do."

Abercranby nodded and decided to change subject.

"How's the Irish Campaign going?"

D'Arcy didn't show any surprise. He knew the question would come and the fact that it was coming so soon only confirmed his analysis of Abercranby's worth as Prime Minister.

"As good as it could with only a quarter of my armies at my disposal. The best news was the refusal of most of the Scottish soldiers to fight for Ireland once more. They surrendered by the scores. I will repatriate them to Scotland within the next weeks."

"All of them?"

"Most of them. Those who are wanted by the Irish government for crimes will have to stay until after their trial."

"Fair trial?"

"Indeed, Sir, a fair trial." D'Arcy looked at his opposite. "And if you would propose to send impartial observers to look over the whole procedures, I'd gladly accept." He smiled. "It is important that this affair stays outside of blood-lusty revenge. Those soldiers and officers did commit crimes, but most of them followed orders and only a few overstepped the mark to follow their own perversity. The Latter will hang; there is no doubt in my mind about it, the former, on the other side, will be condemned, but not sentenced."

Abercranby shrugged.

"Why not just let them go if you don't have the will to sentence them?"

"Because I want to force new rules on the business of war my Lord! Soldiers are instruments of State craft, there's no doubt to that. But soldiers must know and be reminded that the State they serve hasn't placed them above its law. That the State hasn't given them or their officers carte blanche to kill, rape or rob! When all is said and done they still have to obey to the law of the State they serve."

D'Arcy made a face.

"But I'm also a soldier and an officer. I know that when an officer gives an order most soldiers will obey without thinking about the lawfulness of said orders. But I need them to know that even if they obey unlawful orders they will have an out if they don't overstep the mark." D'Arcy snorted. "I'm no Saint my Lord and I'm not against using torture –_even doing it myself_– to get information I need to ensure the success of a plan. I know it's not something I should be proud of, but in addition to being the kind human being my wife insists I am inside I'm a ruthless army commander. And said army commander has the duty to win the battles he sends his soldiers into. And if that requires me to be a gutless brute, I'll be a gutless brute! Even if it shocks my kind and amiable wife. But there's a difference between what –_as an army commander_– I must do and what I will allow my soldiers to do. Torturing a spy to get information necessary to win is one thing. Torturing a merchant to get information about his hoard to rob him is another. And if any of my soldiers does it he will pay and pay dearly."

His eyes became hard as flint. "It should have been the duty of the British Crown to punish robbers, rapists and wanton torturers. It wasn't done so I'll do it! But I'll do in such a way that everyone, even my own soldiers, understand the underlying message."

"And the message is?"

"Even if you have the means to wreak havoc you're not allowed to outside of legal _and_ lawful orders! Hopefully the Irish trials will push everybody in the right direction."

Abercranby shook his head.

"You're a very strange man, monsieur d'Arcy. I already knew that you are a shrewd diplomat and a cunning strategist, but I didn't realize that you were also a utopian philosopher."

D'Arcy first shook his head then shrugged. "I was beginning to deny it but perhaps are you right, my Lord. Why could a man of war not also be a philosopher? Philosophy tries to improve the lot of Mankind, so philosophy is deepened by being in contact with human reality. And what is more real in our world than war?" His eyes became unfocused for a few seconds. "So what better classroom could a philosopher find than the havoc of battle field?"

For a few seconds d'Arcy's face changed losing all pretension to be neutral and composed and Abercranby couldn't resist a shiver. Because behind the cultured and smiling mask an ugly monster was lurking! And he didn't doubt for a second that, if the need arose, it was ready to take command.

But soon the mask was back, but d'Arcy's eyes were different.

Or perhaps, once you've seen the beast it was easier to discover his hiding place.

* * *

Jane witnessed the sudden change and could only frown at the topic which had brought that part of her husband to the front. She had already encountered that part of him once or twice and it no longer scared her. But not scaring her wasn't the same as not worrying her. What could have caused it? She would have to ask.

"What's the matter, dear," asked immediately Lizzy. "You look as if you've encountered a ghost."

Jane nodded.

"That's what I did, Lizzy. I just witnessed the dark side of Geoffrey coming to the fore. And it is never a good sign to see _that_ Geoffrey showing his face."

She glanced at Abercranby who was visibly shaken.

"I'll have to be impolite and ask his Lordship."

* * *

A few minutes later Jane was asking politely.

Lord Abercranby smiled at her.

"You saw?"

Jane nodded.

"I felt his mood swing" she answered. "And when I looked up I saw that his mask was down. And behind his mask hides either a very decent or a very dangerous man. And it wasn't the decent one I saw…"

"And you wonder with what I lured that beast out of hiding."

"It will be easier for me to get him back where he belongs if I know what triggered that little come back."

Abercranby looked at the beautiful young woman facing him with new eyes. As usual he had undervalued her because she was beautiful and appeared aloof. But that was evidently not the case. He had already underestimated the sister and discovered a very fine and working mind. And clearly that mind was also at work behind those beautifully candid eyes. He would never again underestimate her and he noted somewhere in his mind to look up the worth of those three other sisters.

He took her by the arm and walked aside.

"We were speaking about the trials in Ireland. And then he became very philosophic while speaking of the reality of war and the value of battlefields as teaching material."

He saw _madame_ d'Arcy's worry almost vanish.

"Thank God," she whispered. "I feared you had triggered that other problem from his youth which haunts him. War and his past as a butcher he masters quite well. That other thing would have been so much more difficult to get under control."

A smile blossomed on her face.

"It will probably be an eventful night for both of us, but everything should be back to normal at the coronation." She curtsied. "Thank you, my Lord, and please pardon me for my directness. But I had to know and there are some questions I know it would not be wise to ask directly."

He bowed in acknowledgment.

"No problem with me and it's not for you but for us to thank."

She smiled and withdrew lightly to join her husband. Abercranby was sure she had had no doubt at what he was alluding.

_Indeed thank God to have placed you in his path… I'm scared shitless at what would have happened if you weren't there to smother the bloodthirsty devil and cradle the decent human._

"Indeed where would we be?" said he aloud before strolling to his carriage with a spring in his step he hadn't felt for decades.

* * *

He lifted an eyebrow when she came back.

She answered with a smile.

"I was worried; I saw your face change while you spoke with his Lordship…"

"Change?"

She nodded.

"As in altered, or to be more precise distorted," answered Jane.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

"And you saw what exactly?"

"I saw Geoffrey d'Arcy as he is when his father comes to haunt and torment him. I had to ask about the topic of your conversation…"

"It was war and remembrances of old battles that drove my former self out."

She took his hand and lifted it to her lips.

"There is no older self. There is only one Geoffrey d'Arcy, but he is like everybody else a Janus in his own right. I prefer when you show me the decent and lovable man, but that doesn't mean that I don't love all parts of that strange and wondrous being who happens to be my beloved husband. You are the sum of all your parts and I hope to be she who nurtures the kind and loving you."

He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her against him before kissing her.

"I don't deserve you."

She winked at him.

"Yes you do. Because it is not a one way nurturing. You nurture my bold and dauntless self which gives me so much more character. With any other man I would have been a calm, loving and shy wife. You looked me in the eyes and you saw that other part of me, the fighter part, which was slowly withering away. And you took it in your loving hands, infused it with new strength and helped it grow." Her smile blossomed into a symphony of mirth and self-awareness. "And so you got Jane d'Arcy the woman who looks a raging mob in the eye."

He sighed and pulled her against him while brushing her hair with his lips.

"That part of you worries me a lot, _mon amour_," he whispered. "But I suppose it's too late to try and make it sleep again?"

She laughed and shook her head.

"It was a sleeping princess' strength and with each kiss we're sharing, you breathe more life into it. So I fear there's no chance to get old Jane Bennet back." She squeezed his hand and shook her head. "I'm so much more myself now! Thanks to you I finally live up to what I had the potential to be."

She looked at him.

"A hundred years' love won't be enough to repay you for that gift…"

He laughed.

"Well it seems that we will have no other choice but to live to a very old age to give each other the chance to repay part of our debts."

"Let's do exactly that, _monsieur mon époux_. Let's do exactly that!"

* * *

"The accommodations are perfect, we thank you," said Catherine de Bourgh while doing a survey of every apartment the staff of the Castle had prepared for the arriving crowd.

During the last hour Mrs. de Bourgh and the castle's staff had looked at everything.

Darcy and the rest of his family were still going through the details of Welsh protocol when Mrs. De Bourgh had called what looked like the head of the staff.

"I'm Catherine de Bourgh, Mr. Darcy's aunt. From the way you look at every detail I suppose you are the chief of staff?"

He bowed.

"Indeed, my Lady. I am! Douglas Shepperton at your service, my Lady."

"Would it pose a problem to be included on your preparations? It could be that the point of view of a next of kin could smooth oncoming problems…"

"Indeed, my Lady," bowed Shepperton, "it would evidently be a very good idea." He looked at the Bennet and Fitzwilliam crowd and judged that by the way they were snaking their way through protocol it would take more than an hour to get them to climb the chairs to take possession of the rooms and apartments. "We could, with your help, improve the lodging arrangements."

Catherine de Bourgh smiled at him her most charming smile.

"Modestly I do believe so…"

He bowed once more and showed her to the storeys.

* * *

"Some remarks, my Lady?"

"Yes," answered Lady Catherine. "First of all you must move the Bennets and put the d'Arcys in the rooms you saw fit to choose for them. It would have been perfect had not my d'Arcy nephew been able to join the ceremony. He being here it would be better to move the d'Arcys closer to Fitzwilliam's and Elizabeth's apartment."

She sighed.

"And forget about separate bedrooms for both couples. They are very much in love and unseemly passionate for members of the Gentry." She lowered her voice. "Probably all that French influence coming with Geoffrey's joining of the family. He's quite the military mastermind, but in matters matrimony he's more on the ardent side. And it clearly rubbed off on Fitzwilliam's marital behavior." She shared with Shepperton a moment of shocked complicity.

"Second and almost as important, Mrs. Darcy needs a private room where she can meet with her sister. If said room could have a secondary entrance usable discreetly by madame d'Arcy you'll have forever Mrs. Darcy's favor."

Shepperton frowned looked at notes and immediately began to reschedule half a dozen arrangements.

"What about Mrs. Darcy parents? I wanted them near the Royal couple. It is said that the King listens to his father's advice."

"That's quite true but they don't need to be near," said Lady de Bourg. "As said the matrimonial arrangements of both couples are rather on the wild and passionate side." She sighed. "We elderly and wise next to kin should be allowed enough distance to spend calm and restful nights."

She pointed at the ceiling.

"And for Mr. Bennet do place him near a study with books aplenty. He was once a man of action but is now a scholar of great knowledge. I know he loves to sit by a well-lit fireplace to read books."

"And what about the sisters?"

Lady De Bourgh sigh was even heavier.

"Place them in some nice quarters where they can gather and discuss and play music and dance. And put them somewhere where they won't be troubled by their elders' marital activities." She shook her head. "I have not the least doubt that they know exactly what married couples do at night –_or even at day; damn that French influence_– but it would be unseemly to let anyone not married in the vicinity of both couples."

Shepperton nodded and thanked liberally.

"I fear, without your help we would have blundered. We are in your debt."

"Don't speak about it. What are old caring aunts for?"

Shepperton looked at her like he was on the brink of asking a question.

"And if you need more advice," added Lady de Bourgh. "Don't hesitate. It would be unseemly for a person of my standing and age to have an official role at court but I'm at your disposal if you have questions about the family."

"I'm once more in your debt, my Lady."

"Don't speak of it, we kind and loving family members thrive to be of service…"

* * *

"And the shared sitting room," said the chief of staff.

"That's a very nice touch," said Jane. She looked at Lizzy who agreed with a smile. "We appreciate it very much. We have much to speak about and this particular place will be very welcome to grant us a little hidey-hole where to do all the talking."

"Your aunt told us as much," smiled Shepperton. "And we too thrive to please."

Lizzy opened her mouth to speak but Jane was faster.

"And we thank you for your efforts. We will convey our thanks directly to whichever aunt had the good idea to give you such a valued advice."

"It was Lady de Bourgh," said Shepperton. "And all her advice was, I must add, invaluable. Thanks to her we were able to correct quite a few unwanted mistakes."

"What other advice?" asked Lizzy in a muted voice.

"We'll ask her at tea, Lizzy," added Jane while frowning at her sister. "Let's not hinder Mr. Shepperton to go after his other tasks and help your other guests. We were the first; some of the others are probably still waiting."

* * *

"Calm down, Lizzy," said Jane while trying to stop her sister rushing out of her apartment to find her Aunt Catherine. "She gave good advice, why lose your temper on such trivial matters?"

"She had no right, she's a―"

"Lizzy! Please-calm-down!" said Jane in a much sterner voice than Lizzy ever heard.

It stopped her in her tracks.

"She's grating on my nerves, Jane. She's always insulting me and treating me like a country nobody!"

Jane took hold of Lizzy's shoulders and forced her to look into her eyes.

"Do you really want to rush out of these apartments and make a public scene to your aunt just because she gave good advice? Who will look like the victim and who like the hysteric shrew?"

"But, Jane―"

Jane stopped her with a finger on her lips.

"No buts, dear. She grates on your nerves, alright, she insults you, I agree, but that doesn't give you the right to look foolish in front of everybody. I doubt she did it to push you into doing something foolish, but that would be exactly what you'd do if you storm out of this door to shout at her!"

Lizzy bit her lips and Jane saw tears swelling in her eyes.

"I can't stand her anymore, Jane. She criticizes everything I do and I lost my patience with her a long time ago."

"Well," smiled Jane, "let's have a look if we shan't be able to find my darling sister's patience and good humor back, shall we?"

Finally Lizzy sighed and relaxed.

"She did it on purpose."

"Of course she did," agreed Jane. "And I'm quite sure, as I already said, that she probably also didn't do it to push you into doing something foolish in front of all those people. If you want my opinion, she did it to secure herself a place here at your court! To have a reason to stay."

"I don't want her to stay!" shouted Lizzy.

A stern look from her sister calmed her down.

"She's not a kind old aunt, that's quite sure" added Jane. "But since Anne pushed her out of Rosings she's lost a lot."

"I won't lose a tear because of what she lost."

"And she's even more lonely than before," went on Jane. "She wants just to find a place where she would be welcome again."

"And she does this by alienating me?"

"Fighting with you is her mean to assert her place in the world! And fighting back is your way to giving her a certain importance. Stop fighting her and she'll just wither away. Ignore her and she'll probably die within a few months."

Lizzy shook her head.

"You can't be serious, Jane. She's a nasty, old woman that's all!"

"She's a nasty, old, _lonely_ woman, Lizzy."

"If you want her you can have her!"

"Love and kindness isn't a language she understands, Lizzy. She understands competition and conflict and fighting and that's why you are her choice. Because you always stand up to the challenge your opponent throws at you. You are perfect for her; she survives because of you…"

Lizzy looked at her sister, but there was no understanding in her eyes.

"I don't understand… What shall I do?"

Jane took both her sister's hands in hers and smiled.

"I want you to revert to your old self, Lizzy. I want you to again be able to see the others using you and act, no longer react!"

She sighed once more.

"I do believe that being pregnant plays a role in your mood swings. But if you let that mood govern you, you'll lose yourself in it. Aunt Catherine plays a game fighting and you liven the fights you give her. It gives her strength, but that strength she takes from you! Don't let her do that to you."

Lizzy felt tears escaping her eyes.

"I cannot just surrender, Jane. She would eat me alive."

"Nobody wants you to surrender, Lizzy. What I want you to do is to stop believing you need to fight to be yourself. Fight her all you want, but don't let those fights touch your inner self. You don't need to win against her to be loved and cared for, Lizzy."

She bent toward her sister and embraced her.

"I love you Lizzy and so does Fitzwilliam and papa and mama and Kitty and Mary and Lydia and soon your babes will overwhelm you with their love! You need nothing else, dear. Reopen your heart and feel our love and you'll be back to your old ironic and sarcastic self. Fight by choice and not because a lonely, old, nasty woman needs to fight you to exist."


	17. Welsh Renewal

**Chapter Seventeen: Welsh Renewal**

* * *

**Sunday the 1****st**** of October **

* * *

The ceremony began at ten o'clock in the morning with a procession between the castle and the cathedral where the Coronation would take place.

Both buildings being not very far, Fitzwilliam had decided to walk.

It had worried the men –and women– who were in charge of security, but Darcy had been adamant. Nobody knew him and so the least he could do was to show himself to his future subjects long enough to get a clear image of himself and his wife.

Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth came just after a little group of trained bodyguards masquerading as soldiers d'Arcy insisted on placing at the front on horseback to give them a better view of would-be terrorists hiding in the crowd.

And since it would have been a quasi-lèse-majesté to use a carriage behind the walking couple everybody, save those too old to walk who went to the Cathedral in advance, had to walk in the long procession.

And soon it became very clear that the population quite liked the style of their future King. Some even chose to walk alongside the procession as long as possible.

Nothing happened along the way and soon the couple was crowned by the Bishop of Cardiff who had refused to name himself Archbishop only a few hours before.

The King's crown was simple and made of Gold and Silver with no gems. If one was near enough one could recognize the Welsh stylized Lyon walking around the gold band to finally sit at the front looking at the world.

Elizabeth wore only a gold and silver circlet which was discreetly and finely chiseled.

Once crowned, The King and his consort, the term Queen having been reserved by the Welsh Constitution to eventual future ruling females, had taken a carriage to Parliament's House where the King was to give his first official speech.

* * *

"People of Wales, Lords of the Realm, Honorable members of this Parliament, I'm here today to give you the first address of a Welsh King for centuries."

He was standing at his lectern and his wife was standing at his side. Unknown to most their fingers were entangled.

Lizzie listened to her husband's speech with only half her mind.

She knew it by heart of course since her Fitzwilliam was not a man to jump into the fray without having prepared everything with great care. And rehearsed lengthily! She had even argued with him that not everything needed to be written down and that a drop of improvisation coated with humor could do wonders to a speech. He hadn't, of course, followed that advice as a whole. He had included a few more light comments, though and if had given the speech a less formal turn.

She was looking at the crowd and forcing herself not to frown as she studied the faces of the people attending the Coronation.

Her eyes crossed Jane's and she was very satisfied to see her sister's pride and the promise of support they were conveying.

Her sisters were all perfectly aligned and their dresses were the perfect match in style but each one of them was touched by her own creativity. Jane had, as was usual when she was wearing an official dress, a Turquoise cape covering her shoulders and her white, green and turquoise dress was folded in such an artistic manner that it could be considered as just a normal pleated dress. With the little difference that it was beautiful.

"… Crown of Wales, I'm far from cheerful. I know that as a person…"

Lydia was in blue and pink and had chosen to wear a hat. If the dress was classic d'Arcy fashion, the hat was extravagant in that it was clearly a caricature of an officer's hat. With lots of colored feathers.

Mary was in her usual greys, with a blue sash of the same shade as Duroc's daughter's cloak. It was subtle but it was obvious to who had an idea of the relationship between Mary and the little girl that it was meant.

Kitty was wearing blue and yellow and Georgiana was in her mirror image. Where Kitty's was blue, hers was yellow and vice-versa. And the effect was rather stunning. Lizzie had seen the bunch of seamstresses landing from the "Dame" and if there was one certainty in this universe it was that those five women would have to stay in Cardiff! She would see to it!

"… dubious privilege of encountering one of those very few men who are able to shape the world's…"

While her Fitzwilliam went on with his speech, her eyes wandered toward the ranks of the men who had chosen her husband to be King in this Country.

There was Abercranby, the tall and serious head of the Welsh Pemberley delegation who was, probably, the man who had convinced the others that Fitzwilliam was the choice to be made. As usual Lord Wainwar Fox was at his side. Not as great an aristocrat as Abercranby but a very astute and smart politician, Lord Fox was probably the mind of the present Welsh Government. A mind that was in no way one of Fitzwilliam's stoutest supporters. He had accepted Abercranby's choice but he was clearly not satisfied with the whole Welsh Monarchy scheme. Here was a man who shared Fitzwilliam's Imperial ambitions. He could just not accept that the British Empire could have been nipped in the bud. And being at the head of Wales foreign policy he was decided to do what was necessary to ensure the survival of the dream of a British Empire.

"… in four different countries, one of them even incorporated within a Greater French Empire."

Those words made Fox grimace. And he wasn't the only one.

Lord Blacke, an English earl in his own right but also a Lord in Wales was the man who looked at Wales Money. And this one was Fitzwilliam's stoutest supporter. Both men had the same idea of managing a country. He knew that with Fitzwilliam at the Helm there wouldn't be expenses not based on prior incomes. Fitzwilliam was not a miser but he couldn't and wouldn't accept to spend money not already in the State's Vault. Be thrifty today to become riche tomorrow was a clear motto in the Darcy management tradition. It had never meant not spending money to increase everybody's standard of living, but it had meant and still meant not spending money not in your possession. Which was exactly Blake's vision of State's management.

"… we lost something. But if we did lose a part of our possessions, we also won back a part of our soul."

That made Lord Schuckle frown. Schuckle was the man whose unlucky task was to manage the Welsh military. His problem being a lot of Welsh soldiers and officers –most coming with their British Uniforms still worn- and a lot less money to employ them. And with Blacke and Darcy looking like misers at the State's expenses, he knew that he wouldn't get what he needed to build the army he could built with the manpower flocking at his office. He knew perfectly well that it wasn't only the money that stopped Wales to build a powerful army. It was d'Arcy's suspicious eyes that were holding everything up. Even if Wales could build the army around the available officers they would not be at par with d'Arcy's well-honed veteran armies. And how would her brother in law react if Wales began to build an army it doesn't need?

"… another Title but the Constitution you wrote speaks of a King and your King I shall be."

Lizzie saw the face Cranshaw made when hearing Fitzwilliam's words. This one was not a friend. He was not directly Fitzwilliam's foe but her husband was judged and condemned by association. Association to her who was the sister to the woman he was despising the most in the world. She hoped that d'Arcy would never learn how Reginald Cranshaw spoke about Jane. Even she was tempted to get hold of a rifle and shot away that ugly little gnome's face! She had no doubt what would happen the second d'Arcy heard or got a report about Sir Reginald's favorite qualifier of her sister.

Lizzie tore her eyes away from the frowning and grimacing face of her husband's Counselor for inner affairs. She would, one day, have to deal with this man's opposition and antipathy and she really really hoped she could do it without asking Geoffrey to deal with him. Even if she was sure his methods would be, in this peculiar case, the only and best ones.

"… the circumstances it was granted I'll swear to protect your freedom and to do what's in my power to secure Wales' sovereignty. Should the time…"

She tore her eyes from all the other officials to look at the common people who were crowding the great church –Cathedral now- with smiling and happy faces. These were the reasons she was here. These were the reason Fitzwilliam was going through this difficult –for him- speech. She smiled at them and soon they smiled back while looking at her. And she knew, because of these smiles, that she was at the right place!

"But even if England's fate seems for the time being dire and hostile I hereby pledge…"

A little girl made a sign in her direction and she had great difficulties not to wave back.

"… the United Kingdom of Great Britain. Even if it is a farfetched dream…"

She just winked at her and was rewarded with a marvelously beautiful smile.

"…you to renew the Union between our Countries."

She saw her husband looking at d'Arcy before going on.

"By your will I am your King! By God I swear that I will give my Country and my subjects all the reasons in the world to be proud to be Welsh!"

A thunderous applause answered the first speech of William the First King of Wales.

* * *

"You stay with your family and I go back to Dublin, dear."

Jane tried to speak, but he stopped her with a finger on her lips.

"Don't argue, please. I do know that it will be hard and be sure that each second I spend without you at my side will be lonely and dull." He stopped and an impish smile blossomed on his lips. "And it is better for your 'injured' shoulder not to strain it by too much movement."

She frowned but also smiled at his attempt at wit.

"Not to speak of the fact that your sister needs you at her side while she is struggling with her new task." He sighed. "I'm going with my army to placate Northern Ireland where the last defenders are gathering. You wouldn't like what you'd see while I battle through Ireland. I go to war and even if I'd like you to be at my side, I really don't want any loved one near a battle field. And since you discovered that propensity to jump in front of angry mobs, a sea between it and you is even better"

He looked her in the eyes.

"I know you dread being left behind by your husband as so many other officers would have done. Forgive me if I fail you on that point but I can't bear the thought of losing you to a stray bullet. And if you stay with Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth I know you'll be at the safest place possible. And that you'll fully enjoy your days even if you nights will be as lonely as mine."

A tear ran down her cheek. She nodded her half-hearted agreement.

"Don't take any risks, dear. I couldn't bear to lose you either. I need you!"

He embraced her tighter.

"You'll be back soon?" she asked finally.

"As soon as the military campaign is over, I'll come to join you. I promise. While I was attending here, thirty thousand men have joined my vanguard in Dublin. With fifty thousand men in a country where the population is in our favor and with the enemy's moral at his lowest it should be even swifter than the takeover of England. Give or take a few weeks and I'll be back at your side."

"And what about the Georges?" whispered she.

"Don't worry they are safe and I do believe the negotiations I'll have with them will have very satisfying results for all parties involved."

"Don't take any risks," she repeated. "Swear…"

"I swear I'll be the perfect cowardly commander and I'll lead from my headquarters in the back."

"You better do just that or I'll exact an awful revenge when you're back!"

He kissed her to reassure her.

He wasn't quite successful.

* * *

"Maureen? We have to talk…"

Maureen sighed and shook her head at her ward.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Jane smiled at her.

"What for? Loving the man I believe is the best suited to be loved? That just shows your perfect good taste in matter of men."

Maureen frowned and looked at Jane.

"I don't understand. You are not going to ask me to quit?"

That made Jane laugh.

"Fire the woman who took three bullets and a knife blade to save my life just because she happens to be in love with the same man that I am? Do you really believe I could be as petty as that?"

Maureen shook her head while chewing her lips.

"I don't know what to think! I know I'd be madly jealous and unable to accept my presence around my husband…"

It was Jane's turn to frown.

"I thought about it. I really did. And I asked a few questions to people I knew would give me honest answers, Geoffrey included. And I came to the conclusion that I was secure enough in the love Geoffrey and I share to be able to…"

She hesitated and shook her head.

"There's no easy way to explain what I feel and I want you to know that it wasn't easy for me to look into the whole spectrum of my feelings. The base of said feelings is about the essence of love. I know and I've always known that love does increase by sharing it. The more people you love, the more you feel… complete! Love can't be a miser's wealth. Once you walk on love's path there's no coming back."

She looked Maureen in the eyes and smiled.

"I started on that path when I was a young girl and it changed my life." She took Maureen's hand in hers. "You once said that we Bennets lived a sheltered and surreal life. I do really believe that that shelter was provided because I chose the path of Love. And God rewarded me for my choice with gifts of extraordinary value." Her eyes were soon covered by a misty veil. "Geoffrey being the most valued of all."

She sighed.

"But Geoffrey was also the devil's most cunning feat, Maureen, because he made me discover passion and with passion came that other part of humanity that never disappeared in me: jealousy!'

Jane laughed.

"I was even jealous of you for what you were for him before. But when I heard you say on your death bed that you still loved him I had to consider what my feelings for Geoffrey were. There's love, no doubt of that, a true and ardent love that I cherish and cradle in my heart but I saw also hungry and obsessive love. And I was shocked to see that beast lurking within Kind and Saintly Jane. I looked further and there came greed. More than greed, there's gluttony which forced me to want to have him all for myself. I saw my voracity to possess him, to own him, to swallow him alive just to be sure that nobody else could have him!"

Her true and genuine smile came back.

"And seeing them in bright light I realized that they were no monsters, just puny petty little shadowy parts of me that achieved control of me by letting me believe they were important." She laughed loudly. "I crunched them just by dissolving my inner shadow."

Jane took Maureen's hands in hers.

"And that's why I'm willing to share the love of my life with you. Because you loving him won't belittle my love for him. And I'm very confident in his love for me! So there's no risk for either of us. There's just the possibility to dissolve a shadow that obscures another Kind and Loving Soul."

She looked at Maureen.

"But don't ever betray my confidence by trying to protect me. There can be no secret between us. Never. The shadow festers on half-truths and dissimulations. Please don't ever do anything behind my back. I want to know everything you do together."

Her smile became mischievous and her eyes sparkled with mirth.

"Better, if possible, I want to be there…"

She stood up and kissed Maureen.

"I already spoke with him. But you'll have to find your own way to each other. Speak with him and find out what's best for us."

* * *

"I didn't thank you, my Lady, for your help in improving the room arrangements of the Castle," said Lizzy with a smile. "I must say everything is quite perfect as it is!"

Lady Catherine looked up with surprise in her eyes.

"I thought I could be of help," she answered.

"And so you were," agreed Lizzy with another wider smile. "And if you wish you're welcome to stay at the castle to help with other domestic arrangements." She shrugged. "I can't promise for more since I'm only the consort and have no precise role given by the constitution other than managing the Household. But since Fitzwilliam does recognize your sharp and analytic mind he will probably be attentive to your comments on the political and economic situation, even if it is only outside official channels."

"I'll be proud to be of help," answered Catherine de Bourgh still flabbergasted by the way that conversation was developing.

"And we will be happy for your contributions."

Lizzy bowed her head, curtsying was no longer a possibility allowed by the protocol, and turned to exit the sitting room where Lady Catherine had established her headquarter.

"Good day Elizabeth," said Lady de Bourgh as the servant opened the door for her.

"Thank you, Lady Catherine. Same to you," said Lizzy with a smile.

* * *

"Well that's it" said Lydia to her three non-married sisters. "You can no longer deny it: we're royalty!"

Kitty made a face.

"I thought you'd overcome that silly obsession of yours to search for better prospects."

"That's right, I'm no longer actively seeking, but that doesn't mean we should lower our guard. We are prey now and I refuse to be caught off guard."

Kitty shrugged.

"I'm sure my new status won't change anything with Charles."

"I agree," said Mary. "But I was surprised he hadn't come to Cardiff."

"He had to mind the shop," explained Kitty. "And I do believe he's not ready to see Jane on d'Arcy's arm. He excused himself for his cowardly behavior, but he was quite satisfied to have to stay in London to supervise the Company…"

"Well," said Lydia "that probably excludes you, but the three of us stay exposed."

Mary opened her mouth to speak but at the last moment she chickened out of what she was going to say.

Kitty who was becoming quite near to her elder sister, frowned at her and with a wink pulled her out of her shyness.

"It could be," Mary said finally "that I have a probable suitor."

All her sister's eyes were immediately on her.

"That's very good news," admitted Lydia. "But you need to explain the 'probable' in your sentence."

She explained as thoroughly as she could while staying calm and controlled.

There was a long silence before Georgiana stood up and went to embrace Mary.

"And do you like the prospect?" she whispered.

Mary nodded with a little shy smile.

"I do but I can't believe Emilie will be able to convince her father. As I see it he's not even aware of his daughter's plans…"

"And what do you think of Duroc?" asked Kitty.

"He's a wonderful father. He's patient, sensible and always at Emilie's side whenever he has time. What's even better, he always listens. He doesn't believe that, because he is an adult, he's always right. I think it would be the same with a wife."

Lydia looked at her sister with more than surprise in her eyes.

"I would have bet you'd choose a scholar. Not a soldier." She laughed. "Soldiers were more to my taste."

Mary shrugged.

"Most of the time I'm with the father and the man, not the soldier. In fact, when he is with Emilie he takes great care to not be in uniform. And while with us he is a very obliging father and thoughtful guest. And his practical knowledge about people is amazing. He has such wonderful stories to tell."

Lydia nodded. Indeed her elder sister was quite smitten with the French general.

"Alright, what can we do to help you?" Lydia asked.

"I don't know," shrugged Mary. "He doesn't seem interested in me; I have no idea how get more of his attention."

Georgiana who was still sitting at her side made a face.

"Does he often come to see you?"

"He comes often to see his daughter, I happen just to be there."

"Couldn't he ask for his daughter to come to him? What would hinder him?" asked Lydia.

"I don't know, of course he could call for her, but I suppose Emilie asked him to come to us."

"Does he seem to be with you against his free will?" insisted Kitty.

"It doesn't look as if he doesn't enjoy being with us. But I supposed that it was because of Emilie's presence."

"How much time does he spend with his daughter without you?" asked Georgiana.

"He spends a few minutes with her every evening before putting her to bed. He never asked to be left alone, but were I in Emilie's place I would want a few moments alone with my father."

Lydia who had spent the last days in the same place as Mary remembered that in the evening her sister wouldn't very often eat with her and their parents.

Clearly there was an interest on both sides.

"I propose to let Emilie make her move when they are next together. I believe Duroc does like you, Mary, but, after having lost his first love, he probably doesn't want to involve himself in a new relationship. Without Emilie I'm quite sure nothing would happen but with her he will probably come around and contemplate another relationship between the both of you…"

Lydia sighed and smiled at Georgiana.

"Well that leaves the both of us. What should we do to get what we deserve?"


	18. Consular moods

**Chapter Eighteen: Consular Moods **

* * *

**Paris, Sunday the 1****st**** of October **

* * *

Napoleon Bonaparte shook his head just before laughing out loudly.

"That man will never cease to amaze me."

Josephine looked up and frowned at her husband.

These last few days he had been in an excellent mood.

His wealth was daily increasing and the day before he had received very good news from Russia. Czar Alexander the First accepted her husband's invitation to come to Paris to negotiate an alliance.

"Alexander?"

Napoleon shook his head and shook a letter before his wife's eyes.

"No, d'Arcy! He just invaded Ireland! Dublin is already in his hands and his men are swarming out to get the rest of the Island. Would I be a gambler I would bet half the bribes I got these last months that Ireland will be a free country before the end of October."

Josephine looked up from the letter she was writing.

"Wasn't he going to America?"

"Everybody, me included, believed him on his way to Boston… But he just cut it short and stopped in Ireland!"

"And it makes you laugh? I would have bet the rest of your wealth that it would have angered you like never before."

Napoleon nodded.

"And, normally you'd be right but the news is so good that even this little secret move of d'Arcy won't be enough to shatter my good mood. And when everything is said he just won another victory for the Consulate."

He sighed with satisfaction.

"Our armies are victorious, our enemies are cowed or running, our population and surface has more than doubled, our economy is thriving, and the people everywhere are more than satisfied! France is at his all-time height and I am the leader who brought it about."

Josephine frowned.

"I don't recognize you! What happened to the petty careerist who held a grudge against the whole world?"

He frowned and glanced suspiciously at his wife. "You won't succeed, don't even go on trying. I'm just happy and I revel in that unusual feeling."

He crossed the distance between them and kissed her.

"Would it be that you're in the mood to try and produce an heir, dear?" whispered Napoleon. "It would be the icing on the cake."

She smiled at him and kissed him back as best as she could.

She loved her petty Corsican and he loved his beautiful mulatto. But that wouldn't last. She was no longer able to give birth and she was too weak to confess it. So she knew that, one day, her inability would destroy their relationship. And it would destroy her.

He would just walk on and look for another breeder, if possible with the most important and impressive family tree available. But for now he was hers and she would do what was necessary to make him happy.

* * *

A few hours later they were in each other's arms and quite satisfied with what had happened.

"Why is it that you are not mad at d'Arcy? He is victorious and he could cast a shadow on your fame!"

Napoleon sighed and kissed her breasts.

"No he won't," he said. "Duroc is adamant that he no longer has any political ambition. He's smitten with that beautiful wife of him and he dreams only to be at her side." He chuckled. "She even managed to make him forget his American dream. And that was his obsession. For a time I assumed that what he really wanted was to conquer himself an Empire in America."

He laughed freely.

"But a blue eyed blond haired angel crossed his path and mighty, ambitious d'Arcy stopped in his tracks and began to think about what life is about. And now the only thing he's obsessed with is building a secure little love nest."

"Not only," disputed Josephine. "That wife of his hasn't stopped him from conquering Ireland."

"Not the same," refuted Napoleon. "A few years ago he gave his word to his Irish followers that he would lead them in the liberation of their home island. And it seems that he is a man of his word. And that's another point in his favor. In Egypt he swore allegiance to me. And till now he has shown that he can be trusted. And that means that if I don't betray him first he'll be my liege forever."

He nodded.

"And that's worth more than I deserve."

"He stole that English gold without sharing it… That's not a very trustworthy gesture."

"I believe that, at that time, he was hoarding money to build his little American Empire, dear. But now he's got other interests and if my information is accurate –and it mostly is– he's got himself the most perfect wife one can imagine. She's loving and kindhearted and humble and not in the least interested in wealth or riches. And he's lost himself in her love."

Napoleon snickered.

"No, d'Arcy is out of the political game for quite a long time if you ask me."

He stopped smiling.

"The only thing which could bring him back on track with his ambition would be to lose said wife." He made a face. "If that should happen we'll be threatened by the nastiest and most vicious bastard of the world and he will be looking out for blood."

He smiled at his wife.

"So we will take great care that those lovely and precious wives of us prosper and live very long and satisfied lives!"

Josephine thanked him for the compliment in the most satisfactory manner.

* * *

Joseph Fouché was upset. He didn't like his new orders. But, as usual, he would do his best to follow them. They were orders coming straight from the First Consul's office, weren't they?

But the whole thing was unsettling!

He had lived through five constitutions and more than a dozen coups of the head of France's government and he had –barely–survived to become, once more, head of the police forces of that new and powerful France he was proud to have helped to build.

He was not proud of everything he had done since 1789 but the circumstances were often difficult and he had had often to choose between his own survival and doing very disgusting things.

He was still alive and thriving, wasn't he?

But, thanks to bad experiences, nothing worried him more than a change in politics. He had survived quite a few of them, but a great number of his friends and associates hadn't! And now even the slightest change was triggering a lot of little alarm bells somewhere in his guts.

He snorted discreetly.

These new orders were introducing a rather radical change in his Boss' politics.

No longer was he to try and compromise d'Arcy. No, now he had strict orders to secure the d'Arcy family's well-being.

Such a decision, in his experience as a revolutionary leader, could only be interpreted as the result of a new agreement between d'Arcy and Bonaparte.

They were gathering for a reason and Fouché had lived –survived would be a better word–with difficulty through quite of few of those so-called alliances to know that soon there would be an increased mortality rate in the ranks of other 'trusted' accomplices.

As long as he and his friends weren't included in the coming events he would do what was asked of him but he would be suspicious, very suspicious.

And the very moment he sniffed his own mortality increasing he would take measures.

But for now he was still a trusted associate, wasn't he? He remained the man who had the upper hand on police forces and gendarmes in the whole territory of continental France.

Continental France!

That was a real problem. Because in abroad France, it was d'Arcy who was overseeing the police forces. From his 'special forces' to gendarmes every law enforcer was under direct supervision of d'Arcy.

And each and every one of his men he tried to smuggle into any of d'Arcy's forces had been sent back with a nasty comment about their untrustworthiness.

He had a few agents in d'Arcy's surrounding, his Irish ex-mistress being the best source of what was going on around d'Arcy, but since he had given her the responsibility for his wife's security even from that source news were becoming scarce. Clearly he had not enough agents to know what was really going on. And not knowing scared him shitless.

The Ireland surprise was again proof of his inability to get accurate information about the Boss' fiercest concurrent. But now that they were again best buddies it was no longer a problem, wasn't it?

Fouché grumbled and took a sheet of paper. He didn't like it but he would do what was asked of him. He hated changes! He really hated them!

* * *

Cambacérès was wondering.

How life was amazing some days.

He put the sheet of paper, a secret copy of the missive d'Arcy had sent to Napoleon, and forced himself to look at the big picture.

With Ireland a French département –or even an independent kingdom– the Brits were out of the game for the coming ten to twenty years. If d'Arcy went on with his American plans and booted the Brits out of America, England as a world power was definitely out of the game.

They could come back to power if they played their Indian assets smartly but it wouldn't change anything for Europe. In Europe, for years, the power behind most of the anti-French actions had been Great Britain. Now this role went to Prussia and that country had none of Britain's assets. And with Alexander's coming to Paris, Cambacérès was sure that Prussia would soon lose his only faithful and powerful ally.

And without Russia at his side and without Britain's money to pay for its war expenses the Prussian King would be very cautious in his actions and decisions in the near future.

_So Europe will stay calm until France decides to stir things up again_.

Cambacérès smiled.

_Well until Napoleon decides to stir things up again_.

What about France then?

Napoleon was clearly steering toward another Constitution change. Sieyès had spent quite a few long hours in Napoleon's office and that was a clear sign that new texts were being written.

A change, which would give him more power and probably ensure him with a life time presence at the head of the French government.

The hereditary aspect didn't upset Cambacérès. Napoleon had never concealed –in private– that he wanted to be King –under any other denomination, but King nevertheless– and so that wasn't a surprise. But the 'monarch' aspect did trouble Cambacérès.

He liked being number two in the government.

It was interesting and not only on the monetary side of the bargain.

What would become of him in the next stage of France's metamorphosis?

For all insiders his' and Lebrun's positions were only a front, but since most of the French people were outsiders it did give both of them quite a few possibilities.

Once Napoleon went on and crowned himself Monarch that front would shatter and disappear.

Was he ready to step back out of the light to return to the shadows?

Was he ready to no longer be a Consul?

He shook his head.

What choice remained?

Betray Napoleon?

It could backfire and then he would lose everything. It could even be a success. And what would he gain in the bargain?

He knew that he was not ruthless enough to grab for Napoleon's empty throne. He would be branded as the man who backstabbed France's greatest ruler since Louis the fourteenth and in the end he would have to serve another ruler. A ruler who would never trust the man who betrayed his Boss.

Once upon a time he had planned to play d'Arcy against Bonaparte. He soon had discovered that both men were very well informed indeed. He lost a few unimportant henchmen and got a very good preview of what could happen to him if he went on.

With d'Arcy out of France he found a good excuse to stop his attempts.

The truth was foul-tasting but it was nevertheless the truth: someday in the future the title of Second Consul would disappear and his incumbent would lose all power to get a few trinkets and probably a fancy aristocratic title.

Well nothing to do to avoid the inevitable.

* * *

"I need to meet with her," said Josephine to Constant her husband's Secretary. "The rumors are overwhelming Paris Society and if I believe only half what's told she's a paragon of perfection."

"I did as you asked, _madame,_ and two of my most talented artists were able to make a portrait of her while she was in London."

Josephine was immediately at his side.

"Let me see."

"It's only a pair of sketches but they are both very much alike and so it could be that this is really her image…"

He put two sketches out of a portfolio and gave them to his master's wife.

"She's indeed beautiful," whispered Josephine. "Look at her eyes. Even in the sketches they are shining. Your artists are really gifted to get such a sparkling glance."

"They certify that their sketches are lifelike and that they haven't embellished the reality," added Constant. "And I believe them since they know I wouldn't take it lightly if they should have made fun of me and that _madame _d'Arcy will probably, in a not so far future, come to Paris."

"Do you have an idea where she is?"

"Probably in Ireland with her husband," answered Constant. "Perhaps in Wales where her sister will soon be living. They are said to be very close."

Josephine looked once more at the sketches and nodded.

"I'll send an invitation to her. A private one, nothing official or pretentious! Just one wife to the other, in order to get to know each other. Do you believe she'll come?"

Constant shrugged.

"I doubt it, she's close to her husband and it is said that they are very passionate about their relation. Nothing calm or composed there."

"Nevertheless I'll send an invitation. More to the point I'll send an invitation to both of them! I'm sure they are as curious about me that I'm about them."

She smiled at Constant.

"Let him discreetly be aware of my plans, it won't do to do it behind his back!"


	19. Proconsular Actions

**Chapter Nineteen: Proconsular Actions**

* * *

**Dublin, Monday the 2****nd**** of October **

* * *

"You are alone, Boss?"

D'Arcy nodded at Duroc who was greeting him on the pier.

"She's injured, remember, and I do believe that she's better at her sister's side while we go to war. And so is your daughter. I'm quite sure there will very soon be some reaction in the North. We are depriving them of their livelihood I can't imagine all of them just going down without trying to do something."

Duroc shrugged.

"I don't know, Boss. We got them with their pants down. And never have I seen soldiers yielding in such numbers without even being defeated. I don't see what they could get by fighting us. Dying fast not included." He made a face. "What could they bring forth to fight against us? Even if they arm every colonist they can gather, they'll have problems bringing together a host of a few thousand men."

D'arcy looked at his loyal deputy.

"I don't say they'll be able to win or even resist, my friend. I say that they know that their only hope for a future is here in this country. Their life and their fortune are here in Ireland. It will be foolish, but some of them will fight just because it's easier than to admit that they lost everything. Because even if they refuse to look at the truth; they have lost everything! The Irish want them out of the country or dead! Nothing will change that for quite a few years. After the 1796 massacres nobody apart from my wife will speak in their favor." He shook his head while climbing on his horse. "They are doomed and they know it. But with England in our hands most of them have no real choice. They have been ennobled only recently, they don't have cousins or parents in Wales or Scotland and we came too unexpectedly to give them an opportunity to save a part of their fortune by selling at low prices. Most of the men we're going to encounter will have nothing but what they wear to witness their past wealth." He snorted. "And cornered beasts are the most dangerous. They'll be dangerous because they have nothing left to lose. It won't be easy, it won't be easy."

* * *

There were quite a lot of people waiting.

He granted an appointment as soon as possible. They represented most of the Irish Liberation Movement of East and South Ireland. And, in d'Arcy's opinion, they were the key to a Bloodless conquest.

"I'll see them in two hours. Meanwhile I have to see my staff" said d'Arcy to Benevento. "What's their mood?"

"They are swinging between fervor because of our landing and discontent because of our anti-riot policy. It seems that your agents are rather determined in culling out hotheads and trouble-mongers. It does cast a chill on our relationship!"

D'Arcy nodded.

"And it will go on" said d'Arcy with force. "If one of those hotheads isn't able to understand the big picture he'll be removed to history's dump."

Benevento made a protective gesture.

"Hey Boss I'm only the messenger, rip their heads out, not mine."

D'Arcy smiled and shook his head.

"Sorry, but idiots and would-be killers get on my nerves."

* * *

Finally he was there. And he was striking she had to admit. She had looked at it and given up. She wouldn't be able to seduce him. Not that he was faithful on principle but he was in love and his marriage was too recent to give anybody even a little chance to catch his eyes.

"You wanted to talk" he said while taking a chair at the large round table his staff has provided for them. Most had been able to get a seat and it had helped to placate their mood.

"Yes," said Robert Wollsey the self-designated spokesman or the movement. "We wanted to talk about the actions of your so called 'forward scouts'. They are killing our men."

D'arcy eyes were as hard as flint when he looked at him.

"They are butchering mad dogs who are unable to listen to orders!"

"You have no orders to give us" shouted Clyve O'Bannon. "We are free…"

D'Arcy pistol was drawn and cocked and pointed at O'Bannon's head before he was able to end his sentence. The loud bang of the shot scarred and deafened everyone present and soon O'Bannon was holding his right bleeding ear.

"Next time it won't be an earring but your brain and it will be sprayed all over the room. You probably won't notice the difference but it will nevertheless be a mess."

The pistol disappeared as fast as it came out.

"I have the power to give orders because I'm the man who's holding the gun! And my gun is fifty thousand men strong! Don't ever forget, before you once more overlook showing me the proper respect, that the men who are doing the dirty work of freeing this country are mine! And that mass of soldiers gives me the means to be sure that nobody will ever have a doubt about my resolve to get obedience!" he said in a very cold voice. "I swore to free Ireland; I never ever gave my word to be an accomplice to murder or rape. If our enemies stand up in arms to fight then I'll put all of my armies against them. But I won't accept random killing or arson! In a few weeks Ireland will be freed and –if I'm not still irritated– I'll retire my troops as soon as possible. And that means as soon as I have proof that with my departure there won't be any organized mass murder."

He looked at his audience and only a few were strong enough to resist to his glare.

"Trials you can arrange and you can even arrange mock trials if you want, we did it in France and who are we to prevent Ireland to wade in its people's blood as we did? But while I'm here with my armies, I'm the one who sets the tone and nobody –but me– will get the means to transform a clean sweep in a bloody mess! What happens in Ireland while I'm here will be on my shoulders." D'Arcy took a long deep breath and his face lost all asperity. The hint of smile came to his lips. "When I decide to go to war, I prepare everything. Weeks before I land the bulk of my armies, dozens of discreet men swarm the land I want to secure. And they have a very broad range of instructions. Find would-be traitors and buy their cooperation. Prepare maps in order to give my armies the easiest path to get to my objectives. Preserve infrastructures which will be useful in the future. Destroy everything and everyone that could hinder the realization of said objectives. My experience in Syria and Egypt has proven that a few preempting executions are the best possible way to calm down even the most bloodthirsty religious zealot. And there's nobody more dangerous than a man who truly believes he does what God asks him. So I'm sure even bloodthirsty, Irish idiots will have gotten my message! One way or the other!"

He shook his head and sat down.

"Let's be very clear I'm responsible for everything that happens while I'm in charge! And to prevent random bloodshed I've done and will do what is necessary to calm down any madman who's unable to understand that a peaceful takeover of Ireland is, in the long term, a more interesting feat than any bloody follow-up of massacres. Executing said madmen included!"

He sighed and a small smile came up. "So, do we have another topic or am I free to go on rescuing Ireland?"

She stood up.

"Yes there is!" said she with her strong and melodious voice. "I'm Kathleen O'Really, I'm the delegate of Tullamore and I agree that getting rid of idiots and would be murderers is a necessary mission to ensure the safety of everyone. But we have to think about our future! Our political future! What will Ireland look like tomorrow? That's the question we should answer today and here. Within weeks the Brits will only be a bad memory. But we need to decide how we rule ourselves and, if possible, to build something able to last!"

D'Arcy looked at her.

"Why here and today?"

She smiled.

"Because you are here and because you scare them! If we begin with just ourselves we will end up with a civil war or twenty little Kingdoms. With you –and France– as the Godfather for our new institutions they will all respect their given word."

He nodded and grabbed the portfolio Benevento was holding.

He opened it and showed a slip.

"Here you have all the options France has tried in twelve years. If you include the whole year 1789 you can even consider absolute monarchy as being part of the choice…"

He put the papers on the table.

"What will it be? A Kingdom? A Republic? A central or a federal government?" He smiled at Kathleen. "You have even the simplest choice of all; you could just choose to join us. France has shown these last years that it is able to welcome and house quite a few different people. There would only be two conditions: first you must accept religious diversity. We are, most of us, no longer against religions but we refuse to bow to any of them. What you believe is your business but you have no business forcing your faith on others. And second unavoidable condition; you'll have Napoleon as an absolute ruler."

That got him a few laughs.

Not many because they weren't here to have fun.

"We could," conceded Kathleen, "but we are not the Irish people. We are only delegates and we represent only a fraction of the whole country! We won't decide before all people had been able to send their delegates. And when we are complete we'll be able to make a decision about our future government."

D'Arcy nodded.

"And meanwhile?"

"Meanwhile we will prepare the work of the constituent assembly. What's done is no longer to be done. We have been sent here by people who want us to defend their rights and to fight for their future."

"Well," said d'Arcy. "You have my blessing! But it doesn't explain why I'm still here." He looked at O'Bannon who was still cowed. "You let me know in no subtle words that you don't like orders. Or to be more precise you don't like to obey orders. Especially _my_ orders, should I say. And my answer should have been clear enough." He showed his most feral smile. "Obey or die I don't give a damn which one you prefer! So, what else do you want?"

Kathleen answered. She knew that it was her moment. If she could convince those others that she was an asset in the coming negotiations she would be able to play a role in Ireland's future. As herself not as somebody else's wife.

"For my part, the word Godfather, even if it has a religious background, was used on purpose. Ireland is about to come out of one millennium foolishness or slavery. We need an outsider to show us how to become a great Nation. To be strong and proud and unified."

D'Arcy nodded.

"Divide and rule is a motto I used not very far in the past," answered d'Arcy. "I did it to Great Britain and now I have not one great country but three –perhaps four– small ones scattered over the islands. I'm good at weakening my enemies. I've not enough experience to really know what must be done to strengthen the cohesion of a Nation. The one good reason a group of people sums up to become stronger lies in the existence of a common enemy." He smiled at them. "And _that_ I just deprived you of. A piece of advice: don't look for another one; it is a bad idea. What you have to do is to find reasons to stay together. You'll have to decide if what makes you akin is stronger than what estranges you. Unity is the best way to gather strength, but to be united you must agree on common goals."

He looked at all the gathered people.

"Decide what the goals you agree about are. Chose the order of importance and once that is done, wonder what actions you must promote to reach each one of them. You'll soon see that some goals are incompatible and that you need to refine your choices."

He stood up.

"I'll let you do what you have to do together without interfering any more. The only thing you have to know is that if I wanted to kick the English Crown out of Ireland, it never was my goal to integrate Ireland in the French Republic. If it happens I will welcome it but if you should opt for freedom I'll grant it to you without the least hesitation."

He bowed.

"Ladies, gentlemen, Good work and I'll be back as soon as I have finished with the last pockets of heavy resistance."


	20. Ladies' move

This one not edited... Sorry I'll replace it as soon as possible.

* * *

**Chapter twenty: Ladies' Moves**

* * *

**Cardiff, Monday the 2****nd**** October **

* * *

"I asked you to come because Georgiana felt like trying but wasn't quite sure enough to come alone" said Lizzie when they all had joined her in what had been till recently the castle's drill hall.

Ann, Mary, Lydia, Kitty and Emilie looked at her and their surroundings.

"Trying what?" asked Mary.

Lizzie looked at Georgiana and with a movement of her head invited her to speak.

"You remember that Jane, Elizabeth and I were kidnapped by those ruffians in Pemberley?"

Mary nodded.

"Indeed we do…"

"Well" continued Georgiana "what you don't know is that we never really were in danger. And, no criticism intended, we would probably had gotten away without anybody injured if no outsider would have interfered."

"You mean Papa and Fitzwilliam were of no use?"

"No that's not what I mean. I mean that your father and Fitzwilliam would have been quite numerous enough to render the last ruffians harmless. So with so much armed and nervous men we got an affair which could have been, if you Bennets hadn't been equipped with very solid skulls, much direr."

She snorted.

"In fact when they arrived, Elizabeth and I we were already free and Jane was quite capable to deal with the few remaining tugs… Not to mention that Maureen had, by that time, joined her in her cell…"

"How can you say such things, Georgy…" said Lydia with a frown. "There were seven of them… How had you been able to get out… I saw them when they were brought in custody. They were mature and strong men."

There Lizzie took the floor.

"I do believe the best way to convince you is to show you."

She signed toward the door and Jane and Maureen joined them.

They were both wearing fancy robes and walked bare footed on the wooden floor.

"Maureen is normally the teacher, but in order to show what a normal female, like Jane, is able to do she will for the next minutes act as if she were a normal wayward man."

Jane and Maureen faced each other and if the bow they shared was formalized and stiff, the smiles they offered each other were genuine and friendly.

Lizzie looked at Emilie.

"We deem Maureen the attacker. Emilie what do you want her to do to Jane?"

"Nothing" answered Emilie. "Who would want to do anything to _madame_ d'Arcy? Present people of course excluded, she's the loveliest woman I've ever met…"

Jane thanked her with a head bow.

"As I said Emilie we play at make-believe. Imagine Maureen is a bad person, what could she do to Jane?"

"Grab her?" whispered Emilie.

Lizzie made a small gesture and Maureen literally jumped at Jane arms outstretched as if to grab her.

At most of the girls' amazement, Maureen who had moved with great speed, grabbed only at thin air. Because Jane, with an unlikely speed and an amazing economy of movement, had moved out of Maureen's grab.

Even Mary couldn't smother an exclamation.

Lizzie smiled at them.

"As you see Jane was never in any danger to be grabbed. Maureen played her role to the perfection and we can be sure that any man would have done exactly that same grabbing movement."

Lizzie made a sign and Maureen went on playing the bad attacker.

Bad attacker who, now, was infuriated and resolved to get his pray.

This time Jane didn't dodge or went out of the way but made a move toward her attacker.

And Maureen found herself on the floor with Jane on top a knee in the small of the back and visibly unable to move.

"This time" said Lizzie, "Jane took the initiative and did more than just dodge. She attacked and the attacker was taken by surprise. And rendered helpless."

"And that's what happened when we were in that hut," added Georgiana. "They came in and two seconds later they were on the floor with Jane on top and no longer a danger for us."

She looked at her sisters and Emilie.

"And I want to be able to do the same…" She smiled shyly. "But it would be easier if I weren't alone. I'd like you to learn with me."

Ann looked rather surprised.

"What am I doing here?" said she finally. "I'm quite sure that never ever will I be able to manage such moves!"

"And there you are wrong" said Maureen. "You won't manage as easily as one of your cousins but that doesn't mean that those moves are impossible for you."

She looked at Emilie.

"You could spar with Emilie. Both of you would learn the moves and since she is small and you are weaker than normal nobody should be injured…" Maureen went to her and knelt before her. "You're not a cripple, Miss de Bourgh! You just never trained your muscles. And they long to be used, believe me. Why not try a few moves against a child? You could quite effectively improve your health if you cease to consider yourself unable to make any physical effort. Believe me, you don't need to be strong, you just need to have more confidence in your body." She pointed a finger toward Ann's brow. "You have a strong will, don't you?"

Anne nodded.

"Then let your will take over and your strong mind will force your weak body to act strongly."

They locked eyes.

"And one day, your body will no longer need to be forced because he will be able to do it naturally. And you'll be what you never granted yourself: a normal healthy, strong bodied woman!"

She turned toward Emilie.

"Will you help us, Emilie? We won't do it without you, that's for sure."

Emilie nodded and smiled at Ann.

"If you want, I'll help you, mademoiselle de Bourgh. Together we'll surely progress."

Ann took a long deep breath and looked at Maureen.

"But if I feel it's not for me, you'll allow me to quit!"

Maureen nodded.

"No problem, you resign when you wish, you have my word."

_But I'm confident that with that will of yours you'll die before quitting!_

* * *

"May I?"

Mrs. Bennet looked up from her book and nodded toward Lady de Bourgh who just entered the sitting room.

"Of course, my Lady" answered Mrs. Bennet. "You're welcome…"

Catherine de Bourgh snickered while sitting down.

"The last part is probably a lie" she stopped Mrs. Bennet's protestations with a small but energetic gesture, "…even if I hope that it will be the truth in the future!"

That shut Mrs. Bennet up quite efficiently.

_Why would the Gr_…

"You wonder why, no doubt of that" said Lady de Bourgh. "And I owe you an explanation since I hope to get your collaboration for my plans…"

"Your plans, my Lady?"

Lady de Bourgh made a small hand gesture which rather efficiently conveyed her desire to be able to speak without being interrupted.

Mrs. Bennet granted her her wish even she was no longer cowed by her mighty relative.

"Let's do it in order" said Lady Catherine. "We are the eldest female members of the King's family and as such we have a role to play! I already began to jockey myself into the good graces of the Court Marshall but I need an ally to cover me."

Mrs. Bennet couldn't mask her surprise. More because of the verb 'cover' than because of the word 'ally'.

"I would have included your sister Gardiner in our little club if she would have stayed! But with her and her family going back to London tomorrow I see no use to bother her with my plans." She smiled at her opposite. "But you plan to stay, don't you?"

Mrs. Bennet nodded.

"As long as Fitzwilliam is able to put up with me…"

That brought a merry cackle out of Lady de Bourgh.

"No chance he'll ever ask you to leave. That man is a paragon of good education and never ever would he be unkind to his wife's mother. It would be sooo improper, wouldn't it? No, dear, you are here to stay as long as you wish." Her smile became more sarcastic. "All the more since you decided to act like in a much more balanced manner."

She looked at Mrs. Bennet.

"Excuse me if what I say seems rude but the descriptions I got about you were rather boorish and unbecoming. I must say that nothing I saw went in these directions…"

It was Mrs. Bennet's turn to smile impishly.

"Having two daughters very well married had been a great boon on my nerves. I do believe that a few months ago my frantic and desperate matchmaking efforts could very easily be defined as boorish and unbecoming." She shook her head. "But having one's estate entailed on a male heir cousin and having only five daughters was probably too much for my own sanity…"

"Which is understandable, dear, I would probably have been as frantic as you if such an entail had been placed on Rosings. Even if said heir would have been Fitzwilliam Darcy and not a certain reverent Collins." She chuckled. "I do like toady grovelers but certainly not as heir to an estate…" She frowned at Mrs. Bennet. "I suppose the problem of the entail has been smoothly solved by one of the Darcy's?"

"Geoffrey took this affair in his ruthless hands and signaled Cousin Collins that in French law there's no entail! Without such entail Mr. Bennet got the right to sell Longbourn to whoever he wished. And Edward did just that when his son in law proposed to buy it as a wedding gift for his wife." Mrs. Bennet shook her head. "And for Geoffrey the deal was closed and he would never have shed a tear on Mr. Collins' loss…"

"Not so Fitzwilliam, I suppose?"

"You suppose right my Lady. But since he doesn't like said Mr. Collins any better than Geoffrey –it has something to do with the manner Mr. Collins tried to force Lizzie to marry him– he didn't offer compensation to him but gifted, as French law admits, a small estate in Derbyshire to Mrs. Collins. I do believe Lizzie was very satisfied with her husband's sensible answer."

Lady de Bourgh nodded lengthily.

"Yes that looks like them both. Geoffrey is the ruthless one and Fitzwilliam the sensible one. And since their spouses are just their opposites those are very good matches."

"Lizzie isn't ruthless," protested Mrs. Bennet.

"Not in the same manner as our preferred Proconsul but if you compare her to your Jane, you can't deny that she's the callous one."

'We have all our faults…" admitted Mrs. Bennet.

"Indeed we have and, till recently, I had my own follies to deal with and I'm not above admitting that I went way too far in certain unpalatable directions." She sighed. "I really do hope I surmounted most of my faults" her smile broadened, "even if I will, for the show, go on playing the role of the infamous aunt each time it suits me best!" She took a long deep breath and leaned back in her armchair. "And that brings me back to my plans and the role I do believe we ancient females of the family should play here at Cardiff Castle…"

Mrs. Bennet nodded and frowned at the same time.

"I can very well imagine that you'll have no problem interfering with Welsh nobility and ministers but I, for my part, doubt very much being able to play a role at even such a recent Court! You must consider that two months ago the most prestigious aristocrat I knew and hang around was my brother in law, a recently knighted public servant…"

Lady de Bourgh made a dismissing gesture.

"Don't sweat it! You will need a little tutoring but, believe me, it will be much easier than you fancy. The secret lies in the resolve you project! I'll show you…"

* * *

"You could stay…"

"And letting you go home alone, Edward? Out of the question! And I don't want the kids to stay here more than necessary. Not that I fear Fitzwilliam to lose his head but too many people will look out to get favors from him. They will try and use the kids to get at him. No we go back to London together and we go on living our normal life."

Mr. Gardiner grunted.

"There's no more normal life for us, dear. As Lydia so soundly expressed: 'we are royalty now'!"

Mrs. Gardiner nodded and her husband could see worry in her eyes.

"That's true but in London it's less true than here in Cardiff."

"Yes, but in London we are members of Geoffrey's family and I'm the Consul's counselor in economic affairs. We are important people, now, dear. I wonder if Gracechurch Street is still secure enough to warrant our family's safety. Charles François already proposed to house us at the Palace. It would be safer!"

"No" said his wife. "I'm not moving from a castle to a Palace. I like our house in London. I won't let the circumstances move me around!"

"I'll accept not moving to the Palace but I'll insist that we move to another House better suited to what I'm now! I will need more staff and it would be much better to have you living near my office." He stopped her when she wanted to speak. "I'll let you do all the planning and sketching but I won't budge on the matter of a new House. Gracechurch Street was perfect for a mere merchant; it is no longer good for a banker, entrepreneur and State Counselor who happens also to be an uncle to the French Proconsul and the Welsh King. We cannot deny the new realities we are forced to live in. And these new realities ask for another life style." He embraced his wife. "I'm sorry dear, I know you were quite happy to be what you were but from now on we must adapt to what circumstances…"

"And Jane's d'Arcy…" interrupted his wife.

"And Jane's d'Arcy…" agreed a smiling Mr. Gardiner. "…had made of us!"

They both laughed at their situation. They hadn't sought to change but change had sought them out and Lady Luck had been very good with them.

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head.

"Remember how depressed she was last July? And now she's deliriously happy."

"They are happy…" said Mr. Gardiner. "Look not only at Jane but at happily married Lizzie and almost engaged Kitty! No, dear, don't stop at them and look at our other nieces. Look at Lydia, would you have believed anybody who would have described the 'September Lydia'?"

"Never" agreed Mrs. Gardiner. "Who would have thought that Lydia would play chess and study the almanacs?"

"Those are our new realities, dear and we can't just forget them!"

"I don't forget them, I don't like them, that's all!"

"I asked Charles to reserve two spots of building land around where we are building our new offices." He smiled. "One for us and one for him and his future wife, whoever that should be…"

Mrs. Gardiner frowned.

"You don't believe in Kitty's chances?"

"Of course I do but she herself asked me not to speak of her future as if it was already written. She hopes to be Mrs. Bingley one day but she refuses to be shattered if it should not happen. She's becoming a rather level-headed young lady. And I'm sure that it plays even more in her favor in Charles mind. He's still not sure of his feelings but he likes what Kitty shows him." He nodded happily. "Indeed he likes what he discovers."

"On that subject, what has she decided? Will she come with us or stay here in Wales?" asked Mrs. Gardiner.

"She has not yet decided. She longs to be with Charles but she's also happy to be with her sisters."

"If I can make an educated guess I'd say she stays. She's comfortable with her own feelings and she's ready to let Charles find his footing without her hovering over him!"

Mr. Gardiner approved.

"And if she decides to stay I'll send him here as soon as I'm in London." He smiled. "We need to invest huge sums in this new flourishing Kingdom, don't we? With such huge sums involved who could I possible send? There's only one person who has my whole trust, isn't it."

Mrs. Gardiner laughed.

"He will suspect your scheme, won't he?"

"Of course he will, he's a bright young man but he's also a man who needs to get out his office to sniff fresh air and get his mind off his job…"

Mrs. Gardiner frowned.

"Why not send him also to Ireland? Last time he ate at home he spoke about his plan to look at his Irish family in Connemara. You could give him an Irish mission. Ireland also needs investments and he could take Kitty with him. I'm sure Geoffrey will provide an ample escort to warrant their safety."

Edward Gardiner looked at his wife with surprise in his eyes.

"Kitty and Charles, together? Wouldn't that be unbecoming?"

"Only if they were alone" countered his wife. "And I'm quite sure that for that journey we will be able to find an adequate chaperone."

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Mary…" smiled Mrs. Gardiner. "I do believe Emilie will be in need of her papa in a few weeks. One shouldn't part a father and his daughter for too long a time…"

New frown from Mr. Gardiner.

"Did I miss something, there? You've got that mischievous sparkle in your eyes. Do you know something I ignore?"

She winked at him.

"Officially I know nothing and so what I'm going to say are only speculations, do we agree?"

"We agree" said Edward Gardiner. "I won't speak to anybody about your speculations. But why is it that you are allowed to speak about them and I won't?"

"Nobody asked me to keep the secret since it isn't a secret, but only a speculation!"

"You're playing with words there, dear…"

"No I am not! Nobody asked me, that's for sure and I asked you! There's a real difference!"

"Well, I promised, spit it out!"

Mrs. Gardiner came nearer and whispered.

"Emilie wants her father to marry Mary. And she's very determined."

Mr. Gardiner frowned.

"And Mary?"

"Would probably welcome a demand…" added Mrs. Gardiner. "But nothing's sure before Emilie had been able to speak with her father."

"And you are just manipulating me in order to facilitate the whole thing, aren't you?"

"Of course not" protested Mrs. Gardiner. "That would be interfering in yours and Mary's life, wouldn't it? Never would I do such a thing, would I?"

Mr. Gardiner sighed, brushed a kiss on his wife's lips and went to the door while shaking his head.

Of course she wasn't manipulating him, was she?

He just had to refuse to send Charles to Ireland…

It will only be his own choice. Nobody else's.


	21. London developments

**Chapter twenty one: London developments **

* * *

**London, Tuesday the 3****rd**** October **

* * *

George Darcy was frantic. He just spent the last days in French custody and his protestations had done nothing to improve his lot.

And now he was waiting in the office of the "Maire de Londres".

Finally Isaac Belgram came in and sat opposite to him behind his desk.

George opened his mouth to protest but was immediately stopped by his host.

"Please spare me with your plays of innocence and indignation! I know perfectly well who's facing me and the fact that you were –till now– lucky enough to evade the rope won't convince me that you are anything but a rogue and a slimy piece of shit."

He banged his hand on his desk and pointed a menacing finger at a rather rattled George Darcy.

"But you are a slimy piece of shit that has a common goal with me and so, even if I'll stink for the next months just for having sat opposite to you in the same room, I'll use you to get what I want!"

George who wasn't an idiot was immediately aware of the Mayor's words' implications.

One day he would have the knife at that shitbag's throat and he wouldn't hesitate to slice him to death…

Belgram could only laugh.

"You're so pathetic, Wickham. Don't forget I know you and I'm no fool! You'll never get a chance to get at me because I have seen and smelled what you are. And should anything happen to me, your files would be sent to a few very angry people who wouldn't hesitate to crush the head of the little Wickham scorpion." He looked at Wickham with a feral smile.

"I'll use you because you are the best tool I'll ever get but that doesn't mean I'll ever show you my back or be in your presence without having you cuffed at hands and feet!"

He placed his hand in a drawer at his right and showed him a pistol.

"Or without being ready to shoot you!" His smile increased. "Did you get my message, Mr. Wickham?"

"Darcy" hissed George.

"No" said Belgram. "A Darcy is an honorable man with convictions and personality. You are just a petty little Wickham with greed as a support and numerous vices as filling. So, let's do it again, did you get the message, Mr. Wickham?"

George shot him an ugly look.

"Did-you-get-the-message-Mr.-Wickham?" repeated Belgram.

"Yes" hissed George.

"Well" smiled Belgram. "That was easy! And you know why it was easy, Wickham?" He waited a few seconds knowing quite well that Wickham wouldn't answer. "It was easy because when everything else is said, Mr. Wickham, you're just a cowardly little rodent who lurks in the dark and strikes at his enemy's back! With no backbone at all!"

Belgram sat back and observed his opposite with a surgeon's look.

"You will be perfect. Just what England needs! So let's go to business!"

He took a letter from the same drawer where his charged pistols were waiting.

"Here is a little letter which was sent to me by friends of you, Wickham. Friends who didn't like to be threatened and hassled by a toothy little rodent who believed himself better than the shit he was made of…"

He saw Wickham's tremor and it gave him even more pleasure.

"With this letter in d'Arcy's hand what do you believe will happen to said little toothy rodent?"

Wickham shuddered visibly.

"Exactly, Wickham, he would skin you alive and it would last for quite a long time if I'm to judge by your little get together in Brighton earlier this year."

He shook the letter before Wickham's nose.

"The only chance you have is to get rid of him before he gets rid of you, Wickham!"

That got Wickham's interest but he was cunning enough not to spring an eventual trap.

"I don't know what you mean. D'Arcy is my benefactor… He convinced the rest of my family to take me in; I owe him…"

Belgram nodded.

"Indeed he did exactly that and as a result you hired that Irish idiot to bomb him… You're scum and you know it and I know it and d'Arcy knows it and someday you'll make your last mistake and he'll kill you!"

He smiled once more his feral little smile.

"But not if you kill him first…"

Belgram bent over his desk and began to whisper.

"And I can give you the means to do just that, Wickham. Are you interested?"

George looked at the Mayor and his eyes were full of suspicions.

That granted him a satisfied smile.

"And yes, my ultimate goal is to see you guillotined, Wickham. But if you happen to kill d'Arcy and come out free, I won't try and have you eliminated. You're too ridiculous a villain to even disturb my sleep. We don't play in the same league, Wickham and since you won't ever be able to bring any proof against me I'm really not worried."

Finally George came out of his anger.

"But why? You are his man. Everybody knows that…"

Belgram snickered.

"Indeed, I am, but I'm also an English patriot for whom the French yoke is a burden. I want them to be gone. And because he's so brilliantly dangerous, Wickham, I need him dead. People love him, if not everywhere surely in London. And as you well know London is where it counts. You are a lowly rodent but he is a roaring predator. He won't let us go without a fight. And for England to rise back to power we must first destroy France's best asset here."

Belgram smiled.

"You've been his puppet, now you'll be mine. And as long as you're useful you'll even be granted to live on…"

Belgram's eyes became as flint.

"Do we have an understanding, Mr. Darcy?"

* * *

"I don't see why you're so sure he'll put a foot on this ship…" grumbled George while lying in the wet grass surveying the London docks.

"Because these are the first English Ironclads" answered the man who named himself 'Pitney Forks'. "And the Valliant will be the first to be launched. And Lebrun just decided to rename it…"

George looked at his deputy.

"And?"

"She will be named the 'Proconsul'" said Pitney and it is tradition for the Godfather to be aboard for the maiden voyage. He will be aboard, don't worry and when he is he will be blown in very little pieces…"

George shook his head.

"You can't be sure. It could not happen."

Pitney laughed loudly.

"You are sure, George, you have no doubt because you're so smart and you've spend weeks to learn how those ships work. And you've done what's necessary to be sure that the steam kessel blows up after a dozens of minutes."

George shook his head.

"I don't know nothing about steam engines" grumbled he. "Nobody will believe I did it."

"Don't sweat it, Darcy" snickered Pitney. "Normally you'll be dead, shot by the French troops while you try to escape."

George snorted.

"That part does not agree with me…"

"No doubt but it's up to you to prove us wrong, Georgy boy. We won't do anything to hinder your escape but it will all up to you." Pitney winked at George. "But I'm not worried in the least, a slippery bastard like you has had a lot of training in taking French leave!"

Pitney crouched back and forced George to follow.

"Let's go, we have a lot of work to do to transform you into the dazzling freedom fighter who will end the career of France's best strategist."

"That would be Napoleon" grumbled George.

"And if you're successful with your escape we'll probably send you out to kill just him… Success calls for success, doesn't it?"

He could only laugh out loud when he saw George Darcy's face!

* * *

"It would be a mistake to follow that order" said a voice in the background. "It's a trap laid down by d'Arcy to lure our most courageous men to go die in those Cornwallis hills."

Everybody turned around to look at the young dandy who stood at the back of the room.

"And you are?"

"I'm George Darcy" answered the man with a flashing smile. "And I know because he told me!"

* * *

Pitney slapped him on the shoulder.

"You may be a slimy scumbag, Georgie Boy, but you're an artist in your own right. The way you convinced those hardies to believe you, that was fantastic. You'd sell binoculars to a blind, I'm sure…"

"Thanks, Pitney, it's always so good to be so valued…"

"Don't sweat it man" answered Pitney. "We are making you the hero of the English resistance. You saw these men's reaction; they will come out to support you at your signal. Soon you'll be a force to reckon with."

Pitney couldn't resist a snicker.

"Until the French shoot you; of course…"

* * *

"Why did let him walk?" asked Lebrun. "He is dangerous."

"We had no proof" answered Belgram. "And he is d'Arcy brother in law. I'm not sure how the Proconsul would react if we let him rot in jail till he returns."

"I'm sure he wouldn't have made a fuss about it. George Darcy isn't very popular within his family. But I agree we had no proof only that anonymous letter…"

Belgram made a face.

"Anonymous only because he didn't sign it but you know as well as I who's behind it! I tried to convince him to speak out openly but he refused. I couldn't force him."

"We could have let him remain in prison for a few weeks" said Lebrun. "Nobody would have protested against his little vacancy…"

"We could have but it still would have been illegal."

Lebrun nodded and sighed.

"Let him be watched, Belgram. And if he does anything which could be considered as even slightly illegal he wanders back in jail immediately."

"He'll have a shadow day and night, Sir. He won't sneeze without it being reported on your desk."

Lebrun nodded and looked at the report Belgram just brought him.

"I don't trust that man, Belgram. He's after something, be careful and don't let him any slack."

"I won't, Sir. As I said he won't do a thing without you knowing about it within the day!"

"Let's hope it's enough…"

* * *

"You're joking, aren't you?" asked Charles Bingley while looking at the man who sat in front of him.

"No, I'm not" answered Robert Fulton. "I already build steam engines for war ships. There's no reason we couldn't do the same with freighters. Nobody was ready to risk money on this new technology but monsieur d'Arcy. He financed me and even provided me with air and watertight seals which gave me real new prospects with my machines."

He pointed at the file.

"I earn a lot of money, Mr. Bingley and if money had been my ultimate goal, I'd stop now and went annuitant. But we are only at the brink of an industrial revolution. The steam engine I helped to develop will be the power source of the next century. I want my technology to spread out and cover the whole range of industrial production. And with your help we could transform the whole of Europe within ten years. With that new power source we will be able to produce much cheaper and to deliver our production much faster everywhere in Europe and in the world."

He opened his trunk and put out a series of models.

"As you see the same steam engine can be built in a vast range of different things, most of them vehicles. But I will be able to mount those steam engines in every factory where machines are used. And since we'll build them in chains their cost will decrease steadily giving us the opportunity or to lower the price or to augment our profit…"

Bingley looked at the models and at Fulton who clicked the same steam engine in and out of each of them.

"If we could convince the world to change and embrace steam as the new power source we could provide us the means to increase everything tenfold, wealth included. We could probably eradicate poverty if we accept to reduce the profits of the shareholders."

"Why come to us? You're already building those steam engines in France why not enhance your partnership with your French patrons?"

"My French _patron_ is monsieur d'Arcy, Mr. Bingley and as I see it he has just moved most of his financial empire to London. As a matter of fact, if I judge correctly what monsieur d'Arcy has launched here and with whom, you and Mr. Gardiner are now my new patrons!"

Bingley pointed at what looked like a steam ship with wheels.

"May I?"

"Of course" smiled Fulton. "They are very solidly built and they are working models. I could even put water in the boiler and light the engine. I tried it: it works."

Bingley smiled at him and made a small gesture.

"I'm sure I'd like to see them working, Mr. Fulton. But if you agree we'll wait till my senior partner is back. I wouldn't want to deprive him of the show."

"No problem" smiled Fulton back. "If it agrees with you, I'll let them here. And we launch the show when he's back."

Bingley nodded and poured himself and his guest another glass of Port.

"I must say that I'm impressed, Mr. Fulton. Your report is very well documented and therefore more than convincing and your models look more than enticing. I'd like to have one of them just to play with it somewhere in my attic…"

Fulton laughed out loudly.

"They have that effect indeed!"

Bingley laughed with him a few moments before becoming again very serious.

"I'm only the junior partner, Mr. Fulton and I can't make the important decisions alone." He pointed at the big file. "And I fear this is a very big decision where Mr. Gardiners 'business nose' will be more than welcome."

Fulton sighed.

"I won't say I'm not in a hurry but I will probably be able to wait a day or two before losing patience."

"And you'd better do" said Bingley with a smile, "because as it looks like by coming to us you've found the means to eliminate your future best competitor…"

He stood up, opened a drawer and picked out a rather ponderous box.

He opened it and put out another model.

"See the Company's steam engine, Mr. Fulton! Not quite as sophisticated as yours but very workable indeed..."


	22. Chapter 22: Cardiff sister talk

**Chapter twenty two: Cardiff Sister Talk**

* * *

**Cardiff, Wednesday the 4****th**** October **

* * *

"How are you, dear?"

Jane looked up from her embroidery and smiled at Lizzie.

"I'm fine, thank you." She sighed. "I'm a little worried for Geoffrey but I'm amazingly composed and satisfied." She laughed. "I miss him but it is so much more bearable than before that I'm beginning to fear we've slipped into the marriage routine without even knowing it…"

Lizzie answered with her own laugh.

"I'm sure there's nothing like routine involved, dear. We just went through so much change and novelties that we need an 'out-time'. I'm quite content Fitzwilliam is on his State trip for the next week. I know I really need a moment to gather myself and to look at my new life and at what it involves."

She shook her head.

"So many changes, Jane! I just cannot believe half of my new realities."

"Neither can I" agreed Jane. "And there are things I didn't have time yet to speak about with you." She stood up, went to the window and looked at the weather.

"Not much of a garden here, isn't it? Reminds me of Dublin Castle with its fantastic look on courtyards and cowered ways. Quite ugly and not even secure any more."

Lizzie nodded.

"I agree" said she. "I miss my morning strolls in Hertfordshire. I miss the chance to be able to do things without being followed by half a regiment." She made a face. "I miss my liberty to say the truth…"

"On that matter I can't complain" said Jane. "Maureen is the only guard Geoffrey imposes on me. And since we have quite a good relationship it's not much of a burden…" She giggled. "And, as you know, I'm not quite the morning stroll Bennet sister…"

Lizzie laughed openheartedly.

"No you are more the lie-in Bennet sister… I suppose that when you wake up your husband is already up for hours."

Jane shook her head.

"You'd be surprised, oh you spiteful gossip! I'm up very early these last weeks. I wake up as soon as I feel him stirring to stand up."

She shook her head.

"It's rather amazing, that! He's a restless sleeper you must know. He moves all night, turns and grabs me –gently of course– and embraces me in his sleep and it doesn't disturb my sleep in the least. But as soon as he is awake and begins to try to slip discreetly out of the bed I'm awake…"

She looked at Lizzie with an upward eyebrow.

"I'm a discreet wife" teased Lizzie. "You won't learn anything about my husband's night life. I was, as you remember quite well, able to profit from all the ugly mistakes our parents did make while educating you! So I benefited of a much better upbringing than my elder sister… I'll be mouth closed as usual…"

That brought out a lively laugh from Jane.

"Of course, dear, everybody even that husband of yours knows you're the best educated of all Bennet sisters. That's why you refused him in the most unpleasant manner possible..;"

"He scorned me!" answered Lizzie entering in her sister's game. "He called me plain and uninteresting!"

"And you made him pay dearly if I remember well!"

"He had it coming" grumbled Lizzie not quite laughing. "I can't stop imagining what could have been our life had he been able to go over his bad mood."

She stood up and embraced Jane at the Windows.

"He would have smiled at me and danced with me and I would have been lost for ever!"

Jane nodded her own eyes misty.

"And I would have married Charles, indeed and we would have been very happy and satisfied."

Her smile disappeared.

"Till the French landing…"

That brought Lizzie back out of her little day dream.

"Yes" nodded she, "till the French landing…"

Jane embraced her sister and forced her to look in her eyes.

"We can't remake the past. We are with husbands we love and who love us. A year ago I wouldn't have asked for more. And now we've grown into very important wives."

Lizzie sighed.

"I would have preferred just being a happy wife and a proud mother. Now I am consort to the King of Wales and a figurehead for every British woman if not an example to follow for all females around the world."

She made a face.

"I really don't know if I'll be able to resist the pressure."

"Neither am I" said Jane. "But we have no choice. Our husbands are important men and we must help them as best we can." She embraced her sister. "And we have a duty toward all the females of the world. We could change their lot because of what we are and what we show." She beamed a satisfied smile. "And that's a mission I embrace with force."

She grabbed her sister by the arm and pulled her toward the door.

"We need a walk in a park" said she in a loud and happy voice just before lowering said voice. "Because there are things we need to speak about out of anyone's earshot."

* * *

A quarter of an hour later they were strolling in a nearby park with Maureen just behind them and the rest of the half regiment scattered everywhere in the immediate vicinity.

"What is it that needs such privacy? In general you don't have secret from servants."

"Trusted servants I don't mind but I know nobody at your Court and so I won't take any risk because what I'm about to tell you could put us in dire straits."

Lizzie frowned and moved closer to her sister.

"I suppose it's about the Duchess?"

"You know already?" asked Jane.

"Mary spoke about her visit but gave me no precisions. I suppose it has a link with what could happen in certain ponds…"

"I'm not sure it's the same but in general terms you're right" whispered Jane.

"I'll tell you all…"

It took Jane the best of an hour before she came to the conclusion.

"And now where is she?" asked finally Lizzie.

"She didn't stay after we proposed our own bargain. I believe she won't work against our project but I'm quite sure she doesn't like how it ended. She was so sure that I would be lured in her little scheme…"

Lizzie shook her head.

"I'm very surprised Lydia didn't join her…"

"You're not fair with her, Lizzie. She confessed that she was tempted but stood firm against her friend's proposal."

She lowered her eyes.

"I must confess that I, too, was tempted." She looked at Lizzie and smiled. "I was able to close my wound within seconds, Lizzie. I just had to build an imaginary link between my shoulder and my womb and my wound began to shut itself down… It was amazing! I was really tempted to go on and to learn everything."

"But you couldn't, of course" added Lizzie. "Not kind and loving Jane… No spell craft for her…"

Jane looked at her sister.

"You wouldn't have accepted either, and you know it…"

Lizzie snorted.

"I don't know, dear. You're probably right but I can't be sure. It is tempting and to be able to wield such power would change our life, wouldn't it…"

"It sure would but it would also change us, don't you think?"

Lizzie made a face.

"We are already changing, Jane. We are not the same as three months in the past. Why stopping here? Where do we place the limit?"

Jane nodded. That question had haunted her for quite a long time. But, finally it had been easy to find the answer.

"At not accepting what three months ago we wouldn't have accepted."

She looked her sister in the eyes.

"We've changed Lizzie but all those changes we dreamed about for a long time. I dreamed about marrying for love, I dreamed about having a handsome rich and powerful husband. I dreamed about having a reasonable mother… I even dreamed about becoming a Princess in some wonderland of fairytales. And I dreamed about a lot other things including some day being able to live in your immediate neighborhood." She frowned. "But one thing I'm sure I never dreamt of was becoming a creature able to harm people just by using the power of her mind. And since that was the risk I would have taken, it was very easy to say no."

Lizzie shook her head.

"When you say such things, it seems obvious. I'm grateful that it wasn't I she came to with her proposal. I'm not so sure I wouldn't have been lured into her machinations."

"I'm quite sure of the contrary" protested Jane. "Look at how you reacted when Fitzwilliam asked for your hand in an unseemly manner. You could have reacted like any normal mercenary female and accepted his wealth and his name. But you chose to remain Elizabeth Bennet and now because of that decision you and Fitzwilliam are happily married."

"As I said" smiled Lizzie. "You're too kind with you little sister."

She giggled.

"You can't be sure I never dreamt of being a powerful witch wielding her broom and her tremendous powers…"

Jane laughed with her.

"You forget we shared our dreams for as long as I can remember. And the most shameless dream I remember you sharing with me was the one with the Spanish pirates."

Lizzie blushed immediately.

"My God you remember that one? Swear you'll never tell anyone…"

"I already did, dear" whispered Jane. "And that was twelve years ago."

* * *

They went on with their stroll in the sunny lanes of the park when a commotion called their attention.

A group of men was standing at one of the entries and were blocked by a dozen of their guards.

Maureen had already seen them and had moved between her wards and the little nervous mob.

"What do they want?" asked Lizzie.

Maureen shrugged.

"I see no weapons. And from what they are wearing I'd say gentry or upper middle class. They seem to discuss with the guards. I can't detect any anger. But it could come if they didn't get what they want.

"What they want?" asked Jane. "Only one way to know… Let's go and ask!"

Maureen opened her mouth to try and stop her but Jane made a negative gesture.

"You weren't able to stop me to confront an armed and angry mob, dear, do you really believe I'll stop before a peaceful and reasonable one?"

"One armed idiot is enough to kill the best loved ruler…" grumbled Maureen. "You know that as well as I." She put herself in front of Jane. And in her eyes both sisters could read that she wouldn't budge. "At least let me play vanguard and ask them to send only a spokesman. If you refuse I'll just have to knock you out and carry you back to the castle."

She smiled at both sisters.

"And I could do it for both of you!"

Jane sighed and nodded.

"Go and ask and meanwhile we will stay at a reasonably safe distance from any strangers."

Maureen nodded before making a sign.

Thirty seconds later two of d'Arcy's Irish bodyguards were at their sides to replace Maureen.

"Don't let them move from here" said Maureen in Gaelic. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

As soon as Maureen was away Jane took Lizzy's arm and pulled her a few yards away from the guar. Soon her lips were at Lizzy's ear and she began whispering.

"There's something else I have to say and it's best said when Maureen isn't in the immediate vicinity. I'm sure she would never want you to know…"

Lizzy was immediately interested.

* * *

"What do you want?" asked Maureen to no one in particular.

A man stood out and pointed with his chin towards the little group composed of the sisters and their guards.

"We would like to speak to _madame_ d'Arcy."

"Madame d'Arcy is walking and talking with her sister. I doubt she's here to entertain…"

"It's important…"

"It's always important" answered Maureen. "But are you sure it's also important for her?"

The man sighed.

"Probably not, but I believe she'd be interested all the same."

Maureen nodded.

"At last you are honest" said she. "Come with me but I should advise you not to be brisk or threatening. I would react badly if it was the case."

"I promise… I'll be calm and balanced."

"And let me always see your hands! It will be a good start."

* * *

"Stop there" hissed Maureen. "I believe you are near enough."

The man stopped immediately and bowed at the sisters.

"Madame, my Lady…"

Taken by old habits they both curtsied.

"Madame d'Arcy my name is Robert Shaw and I am one of your husband's exile."

Jane nodded and her face showed her interest.

Mr. Shaw went on.

"We learned that you were here in the park and we came in order to speak with you. About us…"

Jane studied the man. He was young; younger than Geoffrey and even younger than Fitzwilliam. He wore fine clothes even if they were a little outdated considering the new French style that was beginning to influence British clothing habits.

"What is it you want me to convey to my husband?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing _madame_. We want to convince you that our exile is unfair and that it is crippling our Country."

Maureen snorted derisively but didn't comment further.

"I do agree that it was probably an unfair decision but you must admit that it is a much milder sentence than the alternatives my husband was contemplating."

Shaw sighed and could only agree.

"Indeed but you speak of sentence while we are innocent."

This time Maureen snort came out with force.

Jane smiled at her and looked Shaw in the eyes.

"Please forgive her, she's Irish and her memories of English men are rather one sided and 'innocent' is not a word she relates easily with our menfolk. But, since I never was unlucky enough to be victim of a troop on rampage I'm more inclined to believe in claims of innocence."

She breathed loudly and looked at the little group who now stood silently a double score yards away.

"Innocence is a fickly concept, Mr. Shaw. You probably never acted against the law of God and never sullied you name by doing things the Holy script describes as cardinal sins. But what did you do when soldiers serving your King and your Country committed crimes only associated till then with outlaws and barbarians?"

He tried to answer but she stopped him.

"I don't judge you and I don't condemn you, Mr. Shaw. My own father didn't rise to protest against what our troops were doing in a part of what was considered our own Country."

She shook her head.

"But in fact I'm misleading you because Geoffrey didn't exile you because you were guilty of anything; he exiled you because he believes that by banishing you he would have it easier to manage the handling of England's masses. He believes that by separating the masses and their leaders the people would look for new leaders and once those leaders are chosen it would be much more difficult for the old elite to come back and take over once more."

She made a face.

"I'm only his wife, Mr. Shaw, and I would never pretend understanding every subtlety of the political game but if I look at England's affairs just now it seems that his forecasting was rather accurate. There is no uprising, the roads are secure and the people earn more money than ever before. Which is slowly but surely convincing the simple working people that the new direction is perhaps better than that of old."

It was Shaw's turn to make a face.

"I'm really sorry, I hoped I could convince you…"

"You don't need to convince me, Mr. Shaw. I am already convinced that it was unfair to throw you out and that it would be a gesture of good will to let you come home." She shrugged. "I tried and failed to convince my husband that the gesture of goodwill would pay off the risk of renewed uprisings and political uproar. But one thing I know for certain Mr. Shaw, should the day come where I have the certainty that your homecoming will not be synonymous with a higher degree of belligerence in my home Country, I'll do everything in my power to get you back home."

She sighed.

"You have my word that your return is and will be one of my priorities. But I'm not the one who decides. And I'm not even sure that decision is Geoffrey's. Will Napoleon let my husband do if he should try to lift your sentence, that's a question we'll only get an answer to when it happens!"

She shook her head.

"You have my promise, Mr. Shaw. But I'm not the one who has the power to grant you what you seek. I won't give up trying to obtain your release that's for sure, but your hope could be forlorn for quite a long time."

He nodded and turned to go.

Jane stopped him with a hand gesture.

"I could probably do it for you, Mr. Shaw. Do you want me to ask him to let you go home?"

They shared a long silence and she could see Shaw's hesitations and temptations.

He finally shook his head.

"Thank you, my Lady, but no." he pointed toward the little group. "I'm their spokesman it would be unseemly to be granted an advantage just because I was at the right place at the right moment…"

Jane smiled at him.

"It sometimes happens that way, Mr. Shaw. Being at the right place at the right moment is often all that's needed."

"I concur but in this little matter" he pointed toward his associates, "it would be like betraying them, wouldn't it?"

Jane nodded.

"I would, but that little detail wouldn't stop everybody!" She looked at his associates. "Perhaps not even all of them… Were they in your place…"

He answered with another thin smile.

"Let me hope you're wrong, my Lady and that all of them would be as steadfast as I!"

Jane sighed.

"Let's hope then… And since I could probably have done it for you, it is more than likely that given a short list of names I could convince my husband to be lenient with some of them."

Shaw's smile increased.

"I'll provide you with one, my Lady…"

"I'll do what I can for the people on that list, but don't make the mistake to believe that because the names came through my channel Geoffrey won't have a thorough survey made about the people he's going to let go to England. Trouble mongers will be found out and won't get through!"

Her eyes became hard as flint and all trace of a smile disappeared.

"And please, Mr. Shaw, trust is a delicate and fragile feeling. Once destroyed it can't be restored, so don't play me for the fool, it wouldn't be a good idea."


	23. Chapter 23: Irish Ideals

**Chapter twenty three: Irish Ideals**

* * *

**Ireland, Wednesday the 4****th**** October **

* * *

"How is the land?" asked Duroc looking at d'Arcy reviewing his reports.

"Ireland is peaceful for the greatest part. A few local uprisings and arsons after the masters have fled in a hurry. But otherwise it seems that most of my Irish allies have gotten my messages. We won't have too much idiots to hang after taking over."

Duroc nodded.

"You never talked about that 'after taking over'. What are we going to do with Ireland?"

D'Arcy looked up.

"I don't know, my friend. I had two goal by coming here –_three but the third you don't need to know about, yet_– keep my promise to my Irish followers and take the last European base out of the Brits hands…"

Duroc frowned.

"What about Gibraltar? That's still a mighty fortress and sea port…"

D'Arcy nodded.

"I haven't forgotten but for now Gibraltar will have to stay in British hands. I hoped the Spaniards would have jumped at the occasion of our invasion of England to try and get it but I fear our Spanish allies are as…" he hesitated, "prudent as usual."

"I'd use another word but I'll try to be as diplomatic as you, Boss. So what about Gibraltar?"

D'Arcy shrugged.

"Depends on a lot of factors, Géraud. I have the best ships on sea but I'm a long way from having enough of them to mount parallel offensives. We'll have to wait the end of the British campaigns before launching African ones…"

"And what about America?"

D'Arcy sighed.

"There's that problem too! I'm not sure that America is still a priority, Géraud. I do believe America's politicians have gotten my message and that they will, in the future, stay put of Louisiana but I really fear I'm no longer so intend to be there to secure it."

Duroc nodded and took a chair before sitting at his friend's side.

"America doesn't need a master strategist, Boss. America needs a team made of a good diplomat to seduce the locals, a military administrator to secure the borders and a civil engineer to build up the infrastructure. That will be more than sufficient to secure those lands for us. And twenty thousand men, of course."

D'Arcy made a face.

"I fear Napoleon won't give me more than ten thousand for that task if he gives me any."

"Ten thousand are enough to smother all American desire to send soldiers over the Mississippi."

"But not to secure the land fast enough."

Duroc shrugged.

"Why trying to go fast, Boss. France won't need America's riches for the next decades. And you've seen that building a Nation's economy on foreign plunder isn't so good an idea."

D'Arcy stopped him with a firm gesture.

"Only because the Spaniards didn't use the wealth they got in America to invest in their own economic infrastructure. These profits they used to build a huge cumbersome fleet and to enrich their elite. If we find huge amounts of Gold, I know how to use it to build France's future! And you can bet on the fact that it will enrich only those who work for it!"

Duroc snickered.

"Don't lose yourself in daydreams; there will be a part that enriches those who stand at the summit of the State. It's only natural, they will see these riches flowing in and only the stoutest will resist the temptation to siphon off a little undetectable part of the flow."

D'Arcy sighed.

"I know but we can build in procedures to make this siphoning off very difficult and available only to those at the very upper summit of the State."

"Like you and the Consuls?"

D'Arcy's smile grew and became mischievous.

"Like me and the Consuls" agreed he. "As you very well know nothing can stop people at our pay grade if we really want to 'borrow' money in the State's cassette. Best to give them real opportunities to make money honestly without having to steal the people's tax money."

"Some just can get enough…"

"I know, Géraud, I know! But neither of the Consuls plays in that category. They have a real respect for the State's money. All of them."

Duroc shot him a dubious look.

"They won't hesitate to pilfer the enemy's wealth; that's for sure" admitted d'Arcy. "Or, in some cases, even the allies' money but they won't steal from France's assets." His smile grew. "And I must admit that as long as it is not under French care, I have no qualm to say that it's free to grab!"

Duroc looked at his Boss.

"There are rumors that you grabbed England's gold!"

D'Arcy looked at him with eyes harboring the entire world's innocence.

"That's pure scandalmongering, my friend! It was sunk in the Thames' estuary; there are hundreds of witnesses…" said d'Arcy still looking very innocent.

"Is it still on the see's bottom? That's the question everybody wonders about."

"Only way to know should be to send somebody to have a look" said d'Arcy. "France will have the means to just do so as soon as Fulton's submarine is ready. I've heard the Consulate's treasury raised finally enough funds to finance the project. After five years of hesitation. Which just shows that with the right motivation even State miserliness can be overcome."

Duroc knowing very well that Fulton had been in his Boss' employ for the last three years, shook his head .

"You're way too devious boss. I'm not sure Napoleon will be very happy about that little pun."

D'Arcy shrugged.

"It was not my fault Napoleon didn't believe in Fulton's project. I, for my part, saw all the opportunities as soon as Fulton showed me his sketches. And thanks to him and his steam ships we were able to clean the English Channel of all enemy ships and invade Brighton."

Duroc nodded at his Boss' posture.

"Indeed, we did and we were victorious. But then there are those gossip who pretend that it is funny that you only built surface steam ships and not Fulton's main project, the submarine."

D'Arcy stood up and walked around the table.

"My factory is building it, just now, Géraud. I didn't build it before because I saw no military use for a slow hand driven submarine. A steam engine cannot be installed in a vessel whose utility is to be unseen and stealthy. It would have been idiotic to build a submarine that would have been visible because of the smoke billowing out of the see!"

"Why build it now?"

"Because it won't be a military vessel, that's why! It will be a civilian craft used to get at sunken treasures. There is no problem that everybody will be able to spot him. He will be there in a very visible role, won't it? But as a ship of war it would have been foolish to build it, don't you think?"

"For anybody else than you, I'd say yes, Boss. But I'm quite sure that you immediately thought of all the opportunities that vessel was giving you. You're not like the others, Boss. You feel the future…"

D'Arcy bowed.

"Thanks for the compliment my friend but as I spend my time telling my wife, I'm not omniscient! I just use my mind and try to do the best with what I've got."

Duroc snickered.

"Don't play me for a fool boss. I know quite well that the first thing you did when you took the British admiralty was to have copies made of their loss archives… Why would you look for sunken ships if you didn't have the means to get at them? I know you since Egypt, Boss, you do not waste time on projects if you don't see a way to get something out of it…"

D'Arcy nodded at his deputy.

"You're right, my friend, and when Fulton came to me with his pet project and tried and explained to me how his ship could sink war ships I immediately saw the potential of his ship to get at already sunken ships…" D'Arcy shook his head. "He would never had thought of it himself so bent was he to build a ship of war. Believing, that idiot, that men would only pay to build new means of destruction. I convinced him that there is one thing that men, even poor ones, will finance with even more enthusiasm…" He winked at Duroc. "Do you guess what it is, Géraud?"

Duroc bowed.

"Means to become rich?"

"Exactly, my friend" agreed d'Arcy. "Had he thought of his project as a mean to get sunken treasures out of the sea and presented it as such he would have gotten more than enough funds even in his little American home town of Little Britain… Greed is the best motivator ever. Far before war mongering and jealousy."

Duroc shook his head.

"And I suppose you know where all the sunken ships of the world have found their watery grave?"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"Not all, Géraud. But of all those recorded in available libraries around the world I do have a copy of the records." He laughed out loudly. "You don't imagine the numbers of details Lloyds asks for before paying any insurance sums to unlucky ship-owners. I'm quite sure that would I have the time to roam the seven seas with a submarine I'd double my wealth within the next year…"

Duroc couldn't stop himself laughing aloud.

"Just as I said, you're not like the others. You _do_ feel the future… But let's go back to Gibraltar. Shouldn't we try and get it?"

D'Arcy nodded.

"We should but at the time being we don't have the means to take it. To invade Gibraltar I need the same ships I used against Dublin. And I need them here to secure my supply lines. Great Britain still has a much greater fleet than we… If they should decide to concentrate an offensive against us while we are committed here it could put us in great troubles."

Duroc shook his head.

"They have lost too much within a few days. I don't believe they'll have it in them to launch a counter offensive before long. With their King and his heir running they must have tremendous problems to receive new orders and to decide what strategy they'll follow from now on. Each of their admirals, perhaps even each of their captains, is trapped within his old orders. I don't see where, Gibraltar not included, they would be able to regroup to think about their next move. And if we take Gibraltar they'll be forced to move to one of their American harbors."

D'arcy could only agree.

"I know, my friend, I know but we can't go after Gibraltar while we are stuck here. I don't do two fronts attacks. Not with my fleet so new and untried. I really hoped that the Spaniards would see the huge opportunity the departure of the British fleet to catch us presents. But as usual they will waver and falter until the British ships are back."

"And then it will be too late…" grumbled Duroc.

D'Arcy shook his head.

"Don't be so pessimistic, my friend, when we control all of Ireland we will have pushed the British Fleet out of all northern sees. As you noted it, they'll have only Gibraltar and Malta to regroup. And Gibraltar has, thanks to the Spaniards no real hinterland. They'll soon have supply problems. And a lot of their ships will be trapped in their last harbors. And their sailors will be hungry and bored. Not a very good base to begin a reconquest."

Duroc looked out of the window over the mass of camped soldiers. Since their arrival at Dublin only a few dozen had fired a shot.

"I don't know, that whole campaign doesn't feel right. I'm unable to see our enemy. He just isn't there. I'm lost Boss…"

D'Arcy came and patted him on the shoulder.

"There is no more an enemy here, my friend. The population is mostly on our side and the Brits are defeated. The simple fact that we surprised them a second time has smothered their fighting spirit. The Irish Aristocrats and their followers will try to fight but even they know that it will only be a rearguard action to cover the next retreat. It looks like a rout because it is a rout. The only reason it is not a bloody massacre is because we have nipped the killings in the bud. We are mopping up, that's all."

"Do we need fifty thousand men to mop up?"

"No, we need fifty thousand men to remind everybody who's calling the shot here." He pointed toward their men."

"And the lads enjoy their vacation. Here at least they get laid without having to pay! "He laughed. "Believe in my experience the lasses here are worth every minute spent in their company. It wouldn't surprise me if quite a few of our men stay here after we quit."

"We could stay…"

"We could" agreed d'Arcy. "But only if they ask us to stay. We won't impose us upon them. They just got two hundred years of foreign tyranny and occupation. If they want us out of here I won't stay a minute more than necessary."

Duroc made a face.

"I must say I don't understand Boss. We do all the work and if they want to get rid of us we just quit. Why did we come?"

D'Arcy frowned.

"I swore an oath, my friend, I swore an oath and for me that's enough to do what I promised. What is a man worth if his word is nothing but a fib?"

Duroc could only accept the argument.

"But if it's my reason to be here, it's not the main reason I brought France's armies on this Island! France has here another opportunity to show to the world that we value our own standards enough to fight even to free foreign people. We have opened up the way in Egypt and Syria where we fought and defeated the Ottomans. We proposed to the people there to help them create their own Nations. They chose finally to stay with us and it was entirely out of their free will."

Duroc wanted to speak but d'Arcy stopped him.

"I know that fear of the Ottoman's return was their main motivator, but that's not important. What was important was that they asked us to accept them into the republic. And they were no dupes in the bargain. They have more liberties than before and for once the central government is investing there and not plundering their riches."

D'Arcy walked back to his card table and pointed toward a map of Ireland.

"That's what is going to happen here in Ireland. Should Ireland's people select to join us, it won't be because we conquered them but because we showed them that we value enough the concept of Liberty to grant it even to those who are in our debt!"

He closed his eyes and smiled at his visions.

"We have the military power to enslave the whole world but by not using it to that effect we will pull to us all those who fear for their freedom because they are not strong enough to resist their neighbors and smart enough to understand that with us they'll get both!"

He clenched his fists.

"We have that power, my friend, and if we don't betray our ideals the world's peoples will come and gather around us to build a better and safer world."

Duroc shook his head.

"Boss you're not reasonable. You know as well as I that someday your dream will shatter. God, we are only human and humans do make mistakes."

D'Arcy took his best adviser by the shoulders and smiled at him.

"Perhaps, Géraud but I'll do everything in my power to make that ideal live long and prosper!"


	24. Chapter 24: Cardiff affairs

**Chapter twenty four: Cardiff Affairs**

* * *

**Cardiff, Thursday the 5****th**** October **

* * *

"I'm not sure accepting that post wasn't the greatest mistake of my life…" grumbled Darcy while letting his servants take away his ceremonial cape.

Abercranby, now Prime Minister of Wales laughed.

"Don't sweat it Fitzwilliam, you're doing great. You know all the basics, what you still have to learn is a way to show that you like your people…"

"I'm not sure I do like people, Andrew" answered Darcy. "I feel responsible for them but do I like them? I don't know…"

Abercranby came to his young King and forced him to look into his eyes.

"You're really doing great, Fitzwilliam. Trust me! Wales will soon have a constitution which will give you only a small amount of real power but a huge amount of ways to defend your people against the errors of politicians. You'll be, by law and constitution, the defender of the people's rights."

He shrugged and looked at Towston, the Kings Treasurer.

"What do you say, Kelly?"

"His Majesty should more involve his wife… She's a natural about liking people and showing it. And her fine word skills are quite impressive. Kellsey was even lost for words when she answered to his vicious pun. That's one opponent who'll hold his tongue in her presence in the future."

"He didn't like being laughed at" said Fitzwilliam. "It was very visible."

"And what?" asked Towston. "By calling her Grace a Country beauty he's not only shown that he is not a gentleman but by losing his tongue when she countered that being a Country Beauty was better than being a Sewer Rat he lost all credibility as an debater. She snuffed him rather regally don't you think, your Majesty?"

Fitzwilliam guffawed loudly.

"That she did… And she has a rather efficient way with words. But I do believe Mr. Kellsey came out rather untouched. She was probably in a good mood. Had she been really angry she would have skinned him alive. She's a very congenial Lady but fools do grate on her nerves. And when angry she whips out at you quite efficiently."

He looked at his Prime Minister.

"But what will probably end his political career was that my aunt did visibly resent his remark." He laughed again. "It's probably because she believes that particular line about Lizzie was to stay her own intimate insult for my wife. Hearing that idiot using it in front of the Assembly will have for effect that she won't be able to use it any more to grate on my wife's nerves. He'll pay and he'll pay dearly. My Lizzie isn't vindictive in the least but my aunt; yes my aunt is the epitome of spite and vindictiveness."

"We should use your sister-in-law's presence, your majesty" said Towston. "I hadn't had the honor to come to Pemberley and so it was, for me, a great surprise to meet her. A pleasant surprise, must I add."

Fitzwilliam nodded.

"Yes she has that effect on people. And since she married it is even more profound. Contrary to me she does love people. And she has that subtle way to convey that love to those she encounters. I'm quite sure that it was that amazing quality of her that brought d'Arcy to fall for her. I do think that looking in her eyes he sees the man she idealizes and wanting to please her he does what's necessary to look like that ideal…"

He turned toward Towston.

"What do you have in mind when you say we should use her presence?"

"Let her be present as often as possible when you have to attend Official State Business" answered his Treasurer. "It reminds people of the reality of French occupation while showing everybody that our King is d'Arcy's brother in law. That should take care of the political side of the affair. And her kindness and openness should do marvels to make you and your family well liked and popular."

Fitzwilliam made a face.

"I don't know popular" grumbled he. "I'm not the smiling open dandy type. I'm rather the morose mistrustful type."

"Morose could be acceptable but I' rather preferred serious" countered Abercranby. "Mistrustful won't ever! We'll try dedicated. Serious and dedicated should be the adjectives to describe you and you should try to smile from time to time, your Majesty. It really makes a difference!"

Fitzwillian nodded but visibly wasn't convinced.

"Let Lizzie and Jane smile for me. They do it with much more gusto than I. Each time I'm out there, I just feel crowded." He snorted. "Feeling crowded does smother my smiles…"

Towston shook his head.

"So we have to train you…"

"To put a false smile on my face?"

"No, to feel secure when surrounded by people" said Abercranby.

"I spoke with _madame_ d'Arcy and it seems that her husband had the same problems. He learned to overcome them and as he had shown us he is now quite the smiling conversationalist…"

He looked at Fitzwilliam.

"We'll do the same for you, that's all…"

"Do I have a choice?" asked Fitzwilliam.

"No" said both men with one voice.

* * *

"Elizabeth? May I intrude?"

Elizabeth looked up and smiled at her cousin Richard.

"Why not?" answered she. "I'm probably already two days late, one hour more won't make a great difference..."

She pointed toward the armchair facing her desk.

"Take a seat, Richard and what can I do for you?"

Richard did as invited to and crossed his legs while playing with his saber.

"If it is a military question you should perhaps ask his majesty the King William the First, Ruler of all Welsh and Commander of the Faithful, shouldn't you?"

Richard acknowledged the teaser with a smile.

Everybody in the family –except Jane who disapproved and Mr. Bennet who had long enough made puns at the expense of his Hanoverian King to know that it could be misinterpreted–was always calling the new king with rank and title. And sometimes even a few more flourishes…

It had been Lydia who launched the tradition and since it made the new King quite mad it had become a private joke each time William the First wasn't present.

He probably knew they did it but he never mentioned it.

"I should because it is a military matter, but I shouldn't because I already know his answer and I want to know your opinion, dear cousin."

Elizabeth bowed her head in his direction.

"I've never been a miser with my opinions so you should go on in order to get it!"

Richard laughed and crossed his fingers on his stomach while gnawing at his moustache.

"Should I quit the King of the Brits' service to enter in Fitzwilliam's?"

Elizabeth lifted her eyebrows before frowning.

"By God that was indeed a direct and literal question."

She sneered at herself.

"I've said you'll get my opinion so you'll get my opinion. I'm not sure it will be what you want to hear but you'll get it nevertheless."

She inhaled lengthily while studying her cousin.

"Personally I'd be delighted to know you at Fitzwilliam's side. I know he trusts you and you'd be an asset at his side…"

That brought out an irreverent sneer on Richard's face.

"Don't try to deny, I have it from the most experienced military authority in the family! To be thorough to the end, I won't paraphrase the author of said lines but just get the citation over: He has a sound reasonable mind and should it happen, one day in the future, that he gets his fingers on well trained soldiers he will make his stand and most probably win against most opponents!"

"The most experienced? Was this citation from you father or you brother?"

Elizabeth smiled mischievously.

"You have one guess…"

Richard sighed.

"It was your father. I know what d'Arcy would have said."

"Oh you know? I'm curious! Let me know what you believe."

Richard looked at his cousin with suspicion.

"Did he say something about me? Did Jane tell you?"

"He did and she did" teased Elizabeth. "You say what you think he thinks of you and I say what he told his wife about you."

Richard shook his head.

"I'm sure he considers me a Buffoon who wouldn't stand a minute against him…"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"He doesn't, he doesn't at all," said Lizzie. "He has a lot of nasty things to say about the British army and even nastier things about your general staff…" She frowned. "And even that is not general rule; he believes that the British troops in India are probably the best troops outside his own and the Czar's Cossacks… And he is very impressed with one Wesley lieutenant general who fights there."

Her smile grew.

"But about you he only said that he would trade you any time with most of Napoleon's other generals. He even said he would have taken you with him to invade England… And if you believe my sister –and you should because like me she is one of those candid Bennet daughter– he only took the best or the most trustworthy with him…"

Richard snorted again.

"So he'd have taken me with him because he values family over talent!"

"That's your interpretation only, Richard, and you must believe me, I do not agree with you."

She forced herself to go back to Richard's question.

"I don't know if what I said was the answer you were waiting for but I must add one last thing: I'm sure that resigning would not come easily for you. You'd spend the rest of your life wondering if you'd done the right thing and soon you would brand yourself a traitor. So, even if I would love you to be at Fitzwilliam's side I do, very strongly, advise you to stay in service of the Crown of Great Britain until said Crown gives you your leave."

A smile crouched on Richard's face.

"Thank you, Elizabeth. I appreciate…"

"No need to, Richard. Just remember my comment about those candid Bennet daughters. We try to be honest, Richard, with ourselves and with others. Even if it is not in our best interest to do so."

* * *

"I can't believe it…"

"What can't you believe, Mr. Bennet?"

Mr. Bennet turned toward his wife.

"Did I speak aloud? I'm sorry I was thinking about our situation and I just can't believe it."

His wife stood up and came at his side.

"We did indeed endure a few minor changes, dear."

"A few minor changes, you say?" He frowned at his wife. "Since when did you develop a sense of humor, dear?"

She accepted his tease with a smile.

"Since some good soul destroyed everything that upheld my tendency to be overcome by distress and anguish…"

He nodded and took her hand.

"Yes there's that!"

He kissed her hand and sighed.

"I'm sorry I wasn't that good soul. It would have been my duty but in that as in other things I was rather lousy, wasn't I?"

She shook her head.

"Yes you were…" said she. But there was only calm and seriousness in her voice. "But I was probably too difficult a case to be cured by you."

"I…"

She interrupted him.

"Don't, please! We did come over those ugly memories, didn't we?"

He nodded and made a face at the same time.

"I'm still sorry. The fact that what I did no longer has bad consequences didn't miraculously erase those things I did…"

She agreed.

"No but if we agree on forgetting them they will no longer haunt us."

"It's difficult" confessed Mr. Bennet. "I look at my happy daughters and I compare. And the comparison doesn't speak in my favor. I don't remember having made your eyes shine and sparkle in such a manner."

"Comparisons are misleading, dear. None of your sons in law came to his bride with a broken heart and a burning hatred in his soul. If I look at the whole story I believe we came out rather unscathed. Better still none of our daughters seem to have after-effects from our bad education."

Mr. Bennet snickered.

"Yes there is that, indeed. But is it because they are so steadfast souls or because we did some acceptable parenting?"

"They are and we did! And now you can believe in what you see because it is our reality."

She tussled his hair.

"Stop being so serious and moody, Mr. Bennet! Really, royalty doesn't suit you. Even if we did nothing to deserve what we got, we still did get it! So stop now and let me see your best smile. I need it as much as your daughters need their husbands' smiles…"

He turned and looked at her.

"You do?"

"Of course, I do! Now that I've rediscovered it, I want more of it."

He smiled genuinely and he was pleased to see her eyes shine and sparkle.

"Then you shall get it!"

* * *

"How do you do it?"

"Do what, Mama?"

As usual Ann de Bourgh continued to read the letter she just opened.

"To get all those reports of yours! We are two hundred miles away from London and your post is steadily following you."

"A good organization and well paid henchmen, Mama. I let them know where to find me and they do what must be done to send me what I need."

Catherine de Bourgh could only shake her head.

"Listen to you, child. How is it that you need so many reports and letters? How is it that you were, in those few months, able to build said organization?"

That made her daughter lean and look up.

"I didn't build said organization in those last months, Mama. I just reinforced it with Geoffrey's help. It existed for years. My first 'agent' worked for me ten years ago. It was Carter Willis, the stable boy you fired because he was insolent. He did what I asked him to do to be fired. He still sends me reports about what is happening around Rosings. Three months ago I had people working for me from Glasgow to London and Bristol and Manchester. Now I have people working for me from London to Paris and Alexandria."

Cathrine de Bourgh's eyes were wide as never before.

"And I never saw anything."

"You never looked, Mama. You only saw what you wanted to see. You wanted me sickly and abed, so for you I was sickly and abed. You never came to see me in my rooms. You never even looked at my library. Had you just looked at my books you would have discovered quite a different Anne de Bourgh." She snickered. "I was very lucky you never came looking. I can't imagine what would have happened had you known…"

Her mother made a face and nodded.

"Neither do I, dear. I was so determined to see you doing nothing with your time that it never crossed my mind to even ask you what you did with your time."

She stopped a second and looked her daughter in the eyes.

"Anne, what do you do with your time?"

"I travel, Mama. I travel to distant lands and I travel into foreign minds." She smiled at her mother. "Geoffrey says that I gather information. I have a real need to understand what happens in the world and I'm able to understand a lot of things just by correlating little details together."

"You did this for ten years?"

"I did this my whole life, Mama! Ten years ago I just went countywide. Now I cover a part of Europe and soon I'll be able to get news also from America."

Catherine de Bourgh looked amazed.

"How could you do it? You never went outdoors without me or your companion."

"With you I just sat and looked dumb and harmless. With my companion it was quite another story. She had always been my courier and post woman. For a time she was my best recruiting agent."

Catherine de Bourgh sighed.

"Why not tell me?"

Anne looked at her with blank eyes, answering nothing.

After a full minute of that Catherine de Bourgh accepted her defeat.

She knew what would have happened and Anne knew it even better.

"Alright I concede that I would have tried to stop you…"

Once more she shook her head.

"I had no idea that… That…"

"That I had a working brain?"

Lady de Bourgh made of face and frowned.

"The way you say those things one could believe I was trying to brainwash you!"

Anne once more didn't answer. Because her mother wasn't waiting on an answer. She already knew all about her relationship with her daughter.

It had been very difficult but Anne had said what had to be said.

After a long silence her mother sighed heavily.

"Well, what's done is done." She hesitated. "Did I apologize?"

"For what, mother, for being yourself?"

Anne finally stood up and went to embrace her mother.

"Mother I'm not going to spend the rest of my life condemning you for what you did to me. I'm quite sure you didn't do it just to brainwash me. I realize now that you couldn't conceive that my sickly body could host a sane brain. But it did and I did what was necessary to went on without going crazy and without going openly to war against you."

Catherine de Bourgh wasn't the 'embracing' kind of mother but she stood her ground.

"I'm nevertheless sorry, daughter…"

"No need to be. I'm what I am because of you, mother. Now I'll be what I always wanted to be: free and resolute."

There was a light knock at the door.

A smile blossomed on Anne's face.

"That should be Emilie" said she while stepping back. "Teacher time is up!"


	25. Chapter 25: Leinster March

**Chapter twenty five: Leinster March**

* * *

**Ireland, Friday the 6****th**** October **

* * *

"One of yours" grumbled Duroc who had never really accepted the existence of d'Arcy's _Secret Agents_. They were his men and he was quite sure that, coming the day where France would have to choose between d'Arcy and Napoleon, those would never hesitate. They were d'Arcy's…

Which for the trusted general and loyal public servant he was could only be seen as heresy. He loved both men. And the perspective that, one day, he'd have to choose between them was a real nightmare.

But one thing he had known till last August, he would have to make a choice.

Since d'Arcy's marriage he was no longer so sure. His reality has shifted and being himself a man who had been changed by love he could accept that d'Arcy was, perhaps, out of the game.

The key word being, of course, perhaps…

He knew Napoleon for longer and had fought at his side since the beginning of the Italy campaign.

Then, in Egypt, d'Arcy had shown up. And both men had begun a rather complicated relationship. They were not friends, would never be, but they complemented each other quite well.

Egypt and Syria were part of the Republic only because d'Arcy had –literally–cut Napoleon out of the decision making. With Napoleon the French armies would probably still fight in Middle East. But it would be against the Muslims everywhere. Thanks to d'Arcy said Muslims were French, proud to be with them and doing a hell of a job speaking in favor of France's institutions. Should France disembark a squad soldiers in Alger the people would rise and throw the Ottomans out in only a few days…

Duroc smothered a snicker.

It was clearly because of the way they were brought up that they reacted so differently.

Napoleon's family had had to struggle to survive because of lacking wealth and it was showing. Napoleon would grab every penny he was able to get. Without thinking of the consequences, just to have it before anyone else.

D'Arcy would look at the penny and study the people surrounding him to decide who was better suited to be of use –_to him or France_– with a penny more… And that man would end with said penny lining his pocket never even knowing who it was who gave him the possibility to earn it.

Duroc shook his head. Friendship with d'Arcy was easy. More so since he had sparkling eyes anticipating his next encounter with his wife.

That sort of feelings Duroc could be in empathy with.

Napoleon's tremendous ambition was stirring admiration, perhaps even worship, but not friendship.

"Indeed" said d'Arcy putting his own looking glass at his eye. "Kelsey if I remember well" whispered d'Arcy. "He and his groups were charged with scouting Leinster and Belfast. Where, were I the commander in chief of what's left of England here, I would have gathered the rest of English partisans to make a last stand." He frowned. "To buy me the time necessary to get everything of importance out of the Island…"

"Paid with the partisans' blood" muttered Duroc.

"Of course, they will only be a hindrance outside of Ireland. Better to let them die here while fighting for what they stole from the Irish than to let them influence the Nation's future policy." He snickered once more. "Martyrs are very useful to push living people into a new direction. Outrooted people tend to have very single-minded ideas. Such as getting back what they lost. And becoming very insistent about it, it could even happen that they turned against the nation because of said Nation's lack of memory." He shook his head. "No, displaced survivors are only a burden. Dead men never ask for anything…"

Kelsey finally arrived and saluted.

"They are gathering around Belfast, Boss. The English governor is arming everybody. We'll have twelve to fifteen thousand men waiting for us."

"Real soldiers?" asked Duroc.

"Up to five thousand" answered Kelsey. "Garrison troops. No worth at all. Most of your opponents will be old Aristocracy and their retainers. There are rumors of massacres. People are scared and have decided not to be killed without fighting back."

Duroc shook his head.

"We have forty thousand experienced soldiers; do they really believe they'll be able to do anything against us?"

"What choice do they have?" asked d'Arcy. "They have already lost or soon will lose what was theirs. And were I the English commander in chief I would have spread ugly rumors about massacres and rapes committed by Irish hotheads. Not by us it would have been counterproductive with what happened in England. But who will doubt that the Irish are exacting revenge on civilians for what happened these last years? I wouldn't…"

Duroc looked at his Boss.

"And so we just kill them?"

D'Arcy looked at him and smiled.

"Of course not, Géraud. It would be a waste of vast proportions…" His smile changed to soften lightly. "And it would annoy my wife to learn that I have attacked without giving them a chance to surrender…"

"So we'll let that English trash walk" grumbled Kelsey.

"If they are idiots you'll get your massacre, Kelsey! But if they are even a little smarter than village idiots they'll take what I propose and move on and get out of Ireland." His smile disappeared. "I swore to free Ireland from the English crown, I never swore to throw out every inhabitant of English lineage! If they accept trials for those responsible of abuses I'll even guarantee the survival of their families and for those who were fair masters the restoration of their goods or at least a just compensation…"

'That's not what the Irish wish" grumbled Kelsey.

"Indeed but that's what they'll get, Kelsey, because I won't be the man who sanctioned the massacre of innocent families!"

"That's only because of that wife of yours… With Maureen it wouldn't have been so…"

"You're quite right" agreed d'Arcy. "For my wife and for Maureen but in the end even you will see that it is better to build a future on trust and mutual respect than fear and vengeance."

His eyes became hard as flint.

"Will it be a problem for you to obey my orders?"

Kelsey didn't hesitate.

"No, I don't like it but you're the Boss and I trust and respect you. The rest I'll overcome! Same for my boys!"

"Good" said d'Arcy. "Because I'll have new orders for you shortly. You get them through the normal channel."

Kelsey saluted a last time and moved back toward the North.

"Don't trust me Boss?"

D'Arcy nodded.

"Not with that sort of things, Géraud. You are an honorable soldier even with your butcher's reputation. I'm speaking assassination and treason here. It's not your job to get dirty hands. I'm the politician, my friend. In the end I'll have to pay but I refuse to bring you down with me if things don't go as well as I suppose."

"I wouldn't care…"

"Emilie would" answered d'Arcy. "You have seen what show trials can bring. You really don't want to be a part of one. And so I'll write my orders secretly and you'll never know anything which could tarnish your reputation!"

"Not a lot to save at my reputation! It's far from being the best…"

"Your reputation is a fine military one which will come quite handy when France and Russia move against the Ottomans, you'll see. And you don't need another, believe me…"

Duroc scratched his two days beard and smirked at d'Arcy.

"Your reputation is not that of a gutless killer…"

"And what is my reputation, Géraud?"

"Depends who you ask, for the lads you're the Greatest military mind since…" he hesitated and then laughed. "Napoleon…"

"Well hopefully our dear First Consul isn't too irritated with my bettering him."

"He wants to be the Greatest Ruler of all time and probably the man who was able to rewrite 'Mare Nostrum' on the Mediterranean Sea. I'm quite sure he even welcomes your expertise in warfare. It's always handy to have someone at hand who's as good as him at what he does. He will love to threaten ambitious neighbors with sending you to look at the problem. As long as you don't show too much political ambition, he should be satisfied enough."

D'Arcy came back to what Duroc said earlier.

"And outside of the lads, what's my reputation?"

"In France it's probably that of a great seducer… You seduced England's fairest maid and in the follow-up you just happened to seduce the rest of England. Even the Italians rose up to fight Napoleon –who they even consider as more or less Italian–! You the English accepted without a whisper of protest…" He looked behind him and pointed toward the east. "Most of our armies are here in Ireland and there's not a voice calling for an uprising. I would have bet that the Cornwallis problem would swell as soon as we were out of sight but no, nothing happened. They are calm and reasonable."

"I didn't rob them" answered d'Arcy, "I didn't let my lads take what they wanted; I didn't try to impose absurd laws. If you treat the conquered masses as normal people and not as under-humans you can exploit at will you win their respect, Géraud. And respect is the secret to success when you are in a business where you work with people."

D'Arcy sighed and turned to look at what he called his lads.

"You see because they respect me they accept to follow idiotic orders which thwart them doing what every soldier in every army of the past has always done: take what he wants."

"It did cost you a lot, Boss…"

"Much less that it would have cost France to rebuild a ruined England."

"And those sums got me the respect of all those who knew that should we came to England we would make them pay!"

"But we didn't…"

"No we didn't and even if, sometime in the far future, we should lose England, the people there won't look at us as monsters but as gentlemen."

"Not sure" said Duroc with a smile "that the lads do think so far into the future." He turned to look at them as d'Arcy did. "I'm quite sure they prefer that part of your British campaigns. There's much more being laid for nothing here. In England they got what they wanted but at a price..." He snickered. "Even I did get a few propositions…"

D'arcy smiled at his friend.

"And why didn't you accept. It's no shame if they agree."

Duroc shook his head.

"No, I couldn't. Not with Emilie at my side." He sighed. "You know she wants me to marry again…"

He saw his Boss' smile and it confirmed him that what he just said was indeed known.

"Yes I know, there is a rumor running within the little Bennet gynaeceum…"

Duroc frowned.

"Was there something precise within this rumor?"

"Not really, my wife believes that it is Mary Emilie wants you to marry, but it seems that Miss Bennet is rather doubtful that you'll ever be interested in her…"

Duroc nodded and made a face.

"I'm not ready but Emilie is quite adamant. She wants a mother and she's very smitten by Miss Bennet. Her culture, her modesty and her kindness have convinced my daughter that she would be the best mother ever." He sighed. "I must admit that Emilie is more than content with what she has discovered as being Miss Bennet's qualities. And I must admit that under Miss Bennet's tutelage my daughter thrives."

D'Arcy placed his hand on Duroc's arm.

"You say you're not ready and that is a reasonable comment for a widower who stands alone in life. Is it a sane attitude for a widowed father?"

He made a face.

"I'm more than a little reticent to give you an advice since I'm Miss Bennet's brother in law and it could be considered that I'm not partial in this matter. But then, since I've married Jane I came to the conclusion that neutrality is the way of the coward. And if I have faults, cowardice isn't one of them! So let it be known that I'd be very proud to count you as a brother."

Duroc smiled but d'Arcy could see that he wasn't ready yet to acknowledge his compliment.

"Having said that" added d'Arcy, "I won't try and convince you. First because Mary has a much better ally working for her and second because I do, now, believe that love is a marvelous thing to share with one's wife. It's not essential but it is what transforms one's life in something much fuller, deeper and brighter. Your daughter needs a mother figure and I'm quite sure she has already found it. I'm even surer that Mary won't just slip out of both your life only because you haven't asked for her hand. Speak with them both as soon as you have the opportunity and don't avoid the subject. Ask them when they both are present how they see their future relations… If the subject of marriage should arise so be it. If not," he shrugged, "at least you'll know!"


	26. Chapter 26: London Home Coming

**Chapter twenty six: London home coming**

* * *

**London, Saturday the 7****th**** October **

* * *

"Mr. Gardiner…" said Charles while giving his senior partner his most flashing smile and bowing.

"Mr. Bingley…" answered Edward Gardiner while doing the same. "Didn't I already insist that Edward is now the way I'd like you to address me?"

"Indeed you did but as it is the young ambitious sprout I am continues to refuse to be too familiar with a man he profoundly admires!"

Gardiner shook his head and stepped forward.

Soon they were embracing each other.

"Glad to be back, son…" whispered Edward. "I see you've foreseen a lot of Gardiners coming back."

Charles stepped back and bowed in direction of his partner's family.

He got curtsies and bows in return.

"I was sure Mrs. Gardiner wouldn't let you go home alone. So I came with enough carriage to move the whole family and its luggage back home."

"How is London, Charles" asked Mrs. Gardiner.

"Slowly changing, Madam…" answered he. "And I must confess that I am one of those responsible for the changes. The sewers are developing quite nicely and we should be able to recover plastered streets within five or six months." His bright and luminous smile flashed at her. "I have even found a way to placate most of the vendors who were crying murder because the customers were no longer able to come to their shops."

Mr. Gardiner frowned at his partner.

That problem had been his main social fear for the last weeks. The huge civil engineering endeavors in London had forced quite a lot of shops to close their doors and wait for the end of the public works. And a shop keeper unable to greet customers would soon become a pauper.

"And how did you work out that miracle, young man" asked Mrs. Gardiner.

"I displaced them…" answered Charles with a smile. "Or at least we will displace them within the next month."

"Displace them and where are they going?"

"I rented –with a selling promise from Lebrun– all of London's remaining barracks and our work gangs are rebuilding them into…" he hesitated. "I call them 'Sies' the acronym for 'Sellers' Islands' where all vendors will be able to have a selling area made of three rooms, one to expose the wares, one to stock and/or repair and one to put a bed, a table and two chairs for those intend to live at their shop."

Mr. Gardiner nodded and smiled.

"And they accepted?"

"Not without grumbling but I uttered a few little falsehoods about the company being decided to fill up the empty areas with its own sellers, and soon they decided that they weren't really interested in waiting too long and getting the last little selling areas in the attics. So most of them are now helping the work crews to lay out and fit out their new shops… They have been a great help with solving practical problems like stock displacements and delivery. It should be quite an interesting new concept to have all different trades regrouped in one building…"

"Only one?"

"Yes and no" said Charles. "There will be seven 'Sies' in London but each of them will regroup a few sellers of each trade. The only trade which won't be dispatched everywhere is the trade of Goldsmith. All of London's Goldsmith asked to be regrouped in one huge –and secured–selling area in the old horse guards barracks…"

Mr. Gardiner could only laugh at those merchants wit.

"Best place in town in sight of the Palace and the nicest parks in town" whistled he. "I'm quite sure they will sell a great deal more than now."

He patted his junior partner on the shoulder and soon helped his wife to climb in the second carriage, the first having been invaded by his little pack of children.

"That's a great idea Charles. It was scarring me to see all those families losing their livelihood because of our work gangs. Now they'll probably get through that period without getting their fingers burned."

As soon as he was inside Charles leaned over and began to whisper.

"Some have even begun to –discreetly of course–discuss of ways to stay in the 'Sies' even after the completion of the sewer network. Demands are coming especially from those whose initial shop was not so well placed in town."

Mrs. Gardiner who was a woman and so much less romantic when it came to money asked the twenty thousand pounds question.

"And what will it cost the company?"

"Around twenty thousand pounds" said Charles with a smirk. "I know it's a huge sum but it's the price for a year in peace and without public unrest."

"That will cut our profit hugely" insisted Mrs. Gardiner.

"You must look at it as an investment, Mrs. Gardiner" answered Charles who had pondered that problem. "As I already mentioned it to your husband the concept seems to agree to most vendors. They won't abandon their own shops but most of them have envisioned staying in the 'Sies' to have a second selling area. Second selling area which is, often, better placed than their initial shop. And I was very adamant to note that if the concept was a success I would in the future fill the shops with Company sellers." He smiled at her. "So I'm quite sure that they will stay and that they'll accept to pay interesting rents in order to do just that!"

Mr. Gardiner looked at his wife.

"And we owe it to the people, dear. Even if we are not those who launched the sewer project we, the Company, are those who earn money out of it."

"If I remember well," insisted Mrs. Gardiner, "we don't earn such a huge sum out of these public works. We spend most of what the French government pays in wages and materials."

"You are right but after this year our work gangs will have the know-how to do it faster, cheaper and without causing as much trouble as in London. All towns in England will have to be equipped with these new sewers. And we will be those best suited to do the work. We will have work for the coming decades…"

Bingley coughed to get their attention.

"I already negotiated the sewer-building for thirty other towns in England and Lebrun accepted that we send a team to Paris to prepare a plan to equip the French Capitol with the same sewers than here…" He smiled. "And meanwhile I got the London barracks for less than a thousand pounds a year for the next thirty years. We will make a profit out of the 'Sies' within five years, the Company shops' profit not included."

Mr. Gardiner thanked his partner with a nod.

"And I suppose you've included that new concept in London's new districts?"

"Indeed, I have" agreed Charles. "We will build three original 'Sies' in South London. And for those we won't have to adapt old buildings to new uses. We will build original selling areas suited for the passage of a great number of customers and the delivery of merchandise. It will solve the problem we had about including shops in our living quarters. People will have to move around but they'll find everything at one place."

"We could include a theater or a museum" added Mrs. Gardiner. "So the maintenance would be on the company and the people would still be able to touch culture…"

"We could even sponsor our own theater troops" said Mr. Gardiner with a smile. "So I could choose my future mistresses without stepping out of th…"

He dodged adroitly his wife's purse and used Charles as a shield.

"Where have you lost your sense of humor, dear…" added he while dodging a few not well aimed attempts. "But that would cost quite a bunch of money, wouldn't it? Where have you lost your saving money drive, dear?"

"Not quite the same" countered Mrs. Gardiner leaning back in her seat and putting away her weapon of choice. "We have a duty toward the people we employ. I'd like to get their children not only education –which is an investment for the Company–but also culture –which would be an investment for the Country-. I really do believe that educated people are less intended to use violence to settle their arguments."

"You are as much a romantic as I, dear…"

"Perhaps but you know what I think of people who buy things in your warehouses for one shilling and who sell it to outsiders for a pound. For me they are robbers… They have stolen enough to went through a year of dire straits. The company shouldn't pay to allow them to go on stealing the poor."

Charles smiled at Mrs. Gardiner's favorite hobby-horse. She was much more prejudiced against shop keepers than… for instance against French invaders… Which was perhaps the thing he was very prejudiced against and not because they invaded his mother country.

Mrs. Gardiner felt immediately his mood swing.

"Charles immediately stop dwelling on lost occasions! It will only make you unhappy again."

"Sorry," smiled he. "But when I look at you bantering with your husband, I can't just stop thinking of what I lost."

"You'll find it with another partner" said Mr. Gardiner. "But only if you allow yourself to be happy again, Charles."

Charles nodded.

"I know, I know… But if it's an easy concept to understand, it's a very difficult feeling to accept."

He shook his head.

"I'm surmounting it! I really do, believe me; but with Kitty out of town it was so easy to think of the past and of what could have been." He made a face. "I know it's foolish but I review all my encounters with Jane and each time the signs were so obvious that she was having real feelings for me that I wonder why I choose not to see them."

Mr. Gardiner looked at his wife and sighed.

He had wanted to wait till they were comfortably seated somewhere at their Gracechurch street house but Charles' present mood forced him to act.

"That's enough, Charles. As you said it's easy also because Kitty is out of town. And since she wanted to stay with her sisters she won't be back for quite some time. So I've decided to send my most trusted partner to Cardiff to negotiate with the Welsh about business opportunities and, possibly, the founding of a Welsh Branch of the Company."

He smiled at Charles.

"The ship we came in returns there tomorrow and I've already booked a cabin for you and two of your most trusted deputies."

He saw Charles make a face but stopped him before he could protest.

"What's more, Charles, I'd like you, as soon as your Welsh business is closed, to go to Ireland and look there at those other business opportunities your family ties could open to us." He looked his young partner in the eyes. "I do believe that Kitty would welcome a trip back to Ireland –if the company's right–and that Mary would be willing to accept to chaperon the both of you while bringing Duroc's daughter back to her father."

Mrs. Gardiner smiled at Charles.

"I'm sure a few days in Kitty's company will erase that ugly mood you fell in because of being lonely. You'll see the past holds nothing the future can't overcome!"

* * *

"Georgie Boy, smile! You're the hero of the day." said Pitney Forks. "They believe in your fight and they believe you when you say that you have a winning strategy against the French…"

He laughed loudly.

"Men are so gullible creatures, aren't they?"

"Stop it, Pitney. They are listening."

"They are shouting like mad, nobody can hear what I say. Not even me…"

The 'Darcy Darcy' shouts were overwhelming and George was rather scared by the amount of noise.

"Don't shit yourself Georgie Boy," snickered Pitney. "There are no French in town today. What with their field exercises…"

"They do a lot of noise…"

"We are in a theater, Georgie Boy…" said Pitney. "And there is a special performance of 'Much ado about nothing', people in the surroundings aren't in the least surprised by the raucous. It's theater, Georgie, people laugh and shout at the theater!"

"Half of them are spies, I'm sure…"

"If it were the case you'd already be in jail."

Pitney made a gesture encompassing his surroundings.

"We're here and we're free. So stop to be ridiculous and go out and harangue them like the perfect gentleman you are."

Soon he was pushed out on the scene and his shoulders straightened themselves without his conscious will.

He stepped in the middle of the scene and his fist went high in the sky.

"Free England"

And hundreds of voices answered him.

"Free England!"

And his fears were gone. He was their leader, they wanted to hear his voice and his orders.

He basked in the feeling.

"Soon" said he with a voice he didn't recognize. "Soon we'll…"

* * *

Arthur Conway was angry, angry because the people around him were bringing the house down because of the shit that Darcy idiot was shouting.

Everything he was saying was clearly nonsense but those idiots clapping around him seemed not to grasp the truth. The French were here and what they had brought was much better than what had been before.

His wage was three times better than what he had earned five months before working as a peddler. Now he worked only ten hours a day, got two meals from his Boss and had been promised a three room home in south London as soon as the Company had finished building them.

With the old rulers he would still be starving and so would probably also his wife. Now they were all fed and he could save two shillings a week to buy clothes and a toy or two for the kids.

No, nobody in his right mind could wish to see Fat George and Mad Freddy coming back.

He sighed and decided to wait till the end of the piece.

Then he would discreetly go home like all these other conspirators.

But tomorrow he would speak with his squad leader in order to decide what to do.

And if it was necessary he would even testify against that bloody lying Darcy who was probably believing himself the future savior of England.

Now that he had tasted the flavor of freedom never again would he bow before fucking useless German bloodsucker.

Never again!


	27. Chapter 27: Belfast Battle

**Chapter twenty seven: Belfast Battle**

* * *

**Belfast, Sunday the 8****th**** October **

* * *

"Gentlemen" said d'Arcy speaking to his joined staff, "this will be our final battle in the British Isles. My spies' intelligences report –and they have been very thorough–that nowhere else in Ireland British troops are to be found. They have regrouped everything here and are embarking what's important in Londonderry. They don't believe it will stop us but their commander hopes to gain enough time to give the King and his family the opportunity to join him and flee toward America."

"And I suppose" snickered Béssières, "that his Majesty has already found a safe haven?"

D'Arcy nodded.

"You're right, there is no use to lose a thought over the King or his family. They are no longer a problem in the strategic scheme of things. And if Lord Soames wants to wait till they arrive the only thing he'll get is us!"

That was said with the usual d'Arcy seriousness and it didn't ring as intended to be funny.

"So we'll defeat the troops arrayed here and then we will, as soon as possible travel to Londonderry."

He sighed.

"I don't believe that Soames will stay after having heard of his troops' defeat but should he wait we won't take the city by storming it. I'll even let him move out of Ireland with me looking at his departing ships…"

He looked at his generals who had, for the most of them with him in Syria.

"We all know what a bloody mess it is to take towns by storming them… With Soames and their last defenders on cruise toward America I'm quite certain the city's fathers will be very interested in talking us out of an assault."

He sighed and looked at the maps.

"But we are here in Belfast and we still have these troops to defeat." He pointed toward a young colonel who had the dubious honor to have arrived only a few days before. "You don't yet know Colonel Alexandre Sénarmont. He joined us a few days earlier and he came with a rather interesting idea about the way to use our artillery. He convinced me to try it here where" he apologized with a smiled, "you won't be pushed to the edge of your possibilities."

That got him a few laughs.

"It is a risky endeavor but it should lessen the number of our men killed or injured. And," he looked at Murat and Béssières, "for once the most people dying because of recklessness and audacity won't be horsemen but artillerymen!"

He made a sign and the Colonel came forth.

"Explain your plan to my generals. Let's see what they'll have to say against it…" He smiled. "Because, as I promised earlier, they'll be against it because there's no more stubborn bunch of conservatives than a group of successful generals! Even young reckless and brainless French generals like the bunch you see in front of you!"

This time they all laughed out loud because it was perhaps the only real criticism d'Arcy has ever ventures against his general staff members. Thinking out of the box was not easy for them. They really preferred old proven techniques which had already saved their lives a few times to new interesting ones which could perhaps do the same better.

Sénarmont didn't lose face and after having laughed like everybody else he took the floor.

"If the generals were still able to think out of the box what would be the use of reckless and brilliant colonels?"

His remark had the desired effect and everybody was quite relaxed when he began exposing his plan.

Murat was the first to speak.

"Man, you have it in you to be a real fine Hussars' general, you should perhaps join us while there's still an artillerist alive!"

Once more they were all laughing.

But soon they regained their seriousness.

"I don't like it" said Kellermann who was known as an archconservative among his brethren. Understandably so since he was well over sixty years old having been nominated captain general by the old King and since then having fought –and survived–more battles than anyone else around the table. "Artillery's duty is to support infantry not to do the infantry's job."

"Our job" cut in d'Arcy, "is to win battles by losing as less men as possible. And if to do the job it means losing a thousand infantrymen or a hundred artillerists, I'll choose the second even if it's so much easier to teach a rifleman!"

Duroc who had been silent till then, nodded.

"And with those 'portable folding walls' of yours it will be awfully difficult to kill your men…" He looked at Kellermann.

"You're an old man, François. You should have stayed in Paris basking in your Senator seat and goggling young ladies on the Champ de Mars."

"And let all the fun and all the Irish lasses to young idiots like you?" answered Kellermann with his best grandfather smile. "Never ever," He pointed at Murat.

"Look at that young lout! Thirty four and already a general! No sane men would entrust thousands of men to such as him. We live in an insane world…"

"An insane _new_ world" said Béssières laughing aloud.

They spoke a lot more about Sénarmont's project when Murat cried out.

"I know how to give us an element of surprise even with that unsettling artillery movement…"

"How so" asked Kellermann.

"By using that young lout" answered Murat while pointing at himself.

* * *

"Here we are" said d'Arcy while looking at the enemy.

"A pity" said Duroc at the same time he was trying to judge the opponents worth. The forward ranks seemed rather reliable but behind it was clearly unorganized rubble. "We will smash them into the ground like they didn't exist."

"They are aligned to fight us" said Murat. "They want to fight? Give them what they want. No reason to spare them, they'll get what they deserve and we will be free to go on to America to free Quebec and Acadia…"

_Not sure_, that, thought d'Arcy. _And surely we won't this year_.

He turned toward his staff.

Alexandre Sénarmont was smiling while looking at the enemy.

"I'm quite sure they'll refuse my last offer as they refused yesterday's! And that means you'll lead the attack, colonel" said d'Arcy, "I want your artillery to move immediately forward, to run till your guns are at range, to dig yourselves in and to point your guns at them in the least possible time. Murat's parley will be obvious and the last proposition to let them come out of this all alive. If they refuse I want you to kill as much as possible in the goriest way possible! I want that battle concluded before my infantry comes even in firing range. You have all our guns under your orders. Use them well and spare my men and you won't regret it…"

Sénarmont smiled at his commander in chief.

"As promised, if I come in range, I'll pound them into oblivion, _monsieur_. An hour after the beginning of my volleys they'll be dead or running like mad toward the sea!"

D'Arcy looked at Murat.

"Is the young lout ready for his stunt?"

The young general smiled his most reckless smile.

"I'll make them shit themselves seeing me charging at them! You know how my Mamelukes love it to show off…"

"Of course we do" howled Kellermann. "And we are very aware that you go with them only under duress, don't you?"

Murat bowed toward his older colleague.

"Of course, old man; I'm the most serious and composed officer in the whole French army, everybody knows that." He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "But I must force myself to look bold and brainless, or they would believe me a coward…"

His remark made everybody present laugh out loudly.

"Go Joachim," said d'Arcy "and show those land dwellers how a real cavalryman uses a horse!"

"Yeahhh" shouted Murat and jumped on his horse.

Three minutes later he was, while bearing a white parley flag, galloping toward the enemy in front of his two thousand heavy cavalry.

* * *

They got their answer before Murat was able to tell anyone what d'Arcy was proposing.

A volley was shot at him and his Mamelukes long before he was in range to propose anything.

A few horses were shot but none of Murat's cavalry men was killed. Some were injured, more by the fall or the following horses but none was trampled. They immediately turned back and galloped back toward the French lines! Meanwhile, Sénarmont's artillery had made its move.

For the first time in the French army's history the Artillery was sent upfront to be the first army corps to shoot at the enemy.

Thanks to the warm and dry weather of the last week, the Mameluke heavy cavalry had, with their charge, stirred up an enormous dust cloud which Sénarmont's artillery had used to get as near as two hundred yards from the enemy lines. And so when the dust cloud finally dissipated d'Arcy's four hundred guns were dug in, protected by heavy timber on castors walls and ready to fire.

And they waited not a second.

The enemy by firing at Murat had clearly shown that they weren't willing to parley.

_So be it_…

Sénarmont unsheathed his sword and shouted.

"_Basculez les protections et_ _Feu à volonté_!" (Put down the walls and fire when ready…)

The engineers let the portable walls fold down and thousands of grapeshot bullets immediately hammered into the forward British ranks. Hundreds men were injured and dozens were killed on the spot, cut and slashed by small iron blades and caltrops. Blood splashed in every direction and soon there was a wail rising from the battle field.

The surviving officers barked orders but their voices were covered by the sound of the incoming carronades and the shouts of injured and dying men. And then the French cavalry came out from behind the artillery and began his flanking move.

It was enough for the British rear ranks who began to see themselves soon surrounded. They stepped back. First the movement was slow but very soon a few soldiers threw their weapons and their ammunition, turned back and ran. Soon there were hundreds of men who followed the first deserters.

Ten minutes after the beginning of Sénarmont's fire the battle was over.

The mopping up could begin!

* * *

"That's the ultimate proof" said Murat smiling joyously. "We no longer need infantry. Everything can be done with a few guns and plenty of horses…"

"Against my infantry you'd be worm meat" snorted Kellermann. "My men would have stood firmly without wavering and then you'd have died…"

D'Arcy stopped the incoming brawl between Kellermann and Murat who, while liking each other quite a lot, were always ready to enter into the frail.

"You're both wrong" said he. "Soon horse cavalry and infantry will be outdated and obsolete. We'll have huge steam powered iron carriages rolling slowly and ponderously toward the enemy and they will crunch the waiting infantry like they were paralyzed cockroaches! Cavalry will probably survive as mop up forces but never again will they go in the battle charging madly the enemy!"

"I'll put my infantry behind your battle carriages" protested Kellermann. "They'll follow under the iron's protection and shoot everyone who tries to climb up and bomb them. And once on the enemy they'll come out to take the battlefield!"

D'arcy frowned and nodded.

"Good thinking that, François. Yes that's a perfect way to use infantry but they'd still be subject to the enemy's artillery."

"As they are now" added Kellermann. "But they'll be protected by the carriages' iron again flat shots. Mortars will still be dangerous but there's no difference with what happens today. If the iron carriages are stout enough to resist to cannonballs they will be useful…"

"But they won't protect your whole infantry" said Duroc.

"I suppose there will be more than one of those carriages" said Kellermann while looking at d'Arcy.

"They won't come cheap but I'd say that, to be effective against a big army, I'd need at least a hundred."

"They will be stopped by holes and trenches" guessed Béssières.

"We won't let them chose their battlefield" countered d'Arcy. "A good strategist chooses the site of the battle and the best forces the enemy to arrive there with no time to prepare the field…"

Kellermann shrugged.

"We didn't choose here…"

"Indeed" agreed d'Arcy, "but we weren't maneuvering here we were following them… Give me enough space to maneuver and we'll fight where I want…"

"Will those iron carriages be able to maneuver at all?" asked Murat. "They'll crawl like fat snails. Give me a good cavalry and they'll never get near me. Those ironclads of yours had the advantage of not needing wind or currents to move. My horses are way better in maneuvers than those fat clumsy iron buckets of yours."

"You're right" agreed d'Arcy. "As long as they are fat, clumsy and slow they'll only have a use during big clashes where everybody has had time to prepare its moves!"

"Which means that the field will be full of holes and trenches where they'll be trapped like old clumsy tortoises…"

"Yes, but then those holes and trenches will nail them down more surely than my best maneuvers and then I'll have my heavy guns to shoot at them…" said d'Arcy. "I'll have the range advantage."

Kellermann made a face.

"For how long, man, you've found how to build them they'll do the same in a hurry!" asked Kellermann. "By God, I hate the battlefield you're describing us. Both sides entrenched and shooting at each other till there's no one left to stop the last assault. That's no longer war, that's pigeon shooting."

"You could send your troops to assault the enemy's trenches" commented Murat. "You could take them one by one."

"And I would lose half my men with each assault just trying!" roared Kellermann. "I know that war is an ugly bloody business but that sort of waste of soldiers would be like butchering sheep with artillery!" He looked at d'Arcy. "If that's how you see war in the future, I'll be very satisfied to go goggling pretty girls in Paris!"

"There's one secret" added Murat, "for a maneuvering warfare: If it's not fast don't use it or you will get just that sort of global butchery…"

"I'll think ab…" began d'Arcy when he was interrupted by Duroc coming back from Belfast.

"The town has surrendered, Boss" said Duroc as soon as he was under the tent where d'Arcy and his staff were debriefing the battle. "And I've rounded up all the high ranking prisoners. Not many officers but quite a few Aristocrats."

D'arcy stood up and made a dismissing gesture.

"Thanks for your input, gentlemen, I'll think about all your remarks and I do believe Murat's right…"

"Hear, hear" interrupted Kellermann. "It had happened once in his life, let's party!"

They all laughed and d'Arcy went to the door flap.

"Please go on analyzing the battle, I'm sure there is a lot more to gain by confronting your view points."

Just before quitting he looked at Sénarmont.

"Try to be brilliant, colonel, because I do believe today's your last chance. Tomorrow you'll be a dull and conservative general just like those…"

He was mounting his horse his staff was launching their third volley of hoorays.

* * *

"Gentlemen…" said d'Arcy after entering the barn where officers and Irish aristocrats were held. "I'm here to speak about your future…"

"What future" said a man whose arm was injured and blocked by a heavy strapping, "we have no more future you just destroyed it…"

D'Arcy looked at the man and shook his head.

"So that's your conclusion, Sir. That you are my victims? That's an easy way to escape your own responsibility."

"What responsibility?" shouted the man! "We did what had to be done!"

"To secure your power it probably was, but to gain peace with your Irish neighbors is was not."

"They were subjects who rose up, not neighbors…"

D'Arcy nodded and looked at those men who had found in themselves the courage to look him into the eyes. Most looked somewhere else.

"And that gave you the right to hang women and children? To order your troops to rape maids in villages and to burn farms, barns and fields? Who ignored that by so doing innocent families were condemned to starve?"

"There are no innocent families in Ireland," spat the same man.

D'Arcy nodded and looked at him. After a few seconds the man lowered his eyes.

"I'll take that in mind when I'll have to deal with your families!" said he in a very cold voice.

He stopped looking at the man and began to speak louder.

"In a few hours some of my men will come to ask you what you want to do. Most of you will have the choice to stay or to move to another place of your choice."

He stopped and his eyes roamed the barn.

"I said most because some members of the Irish Aristocratic Movement are wanted by the Irish Government for the crimes committed in '98. The Irish temporary government has agreed to accept those who want to become members of the Irish Nation. It will be, once more, under the condition of trial. If you had no responsibility in what happened in '98, you'll have the possibility to remain in Ireland or to get away with a just compensation for what you have built while in power. If you go now you'll be considered as having accepted being convicted and all your goods will go to the Irish government without any further possibility to be compensated."

"What about our families?" asked a young man.

D'Arcy pointed at the man who spoke to him earlier.

"Ask him" said he. "Thanks to him your families will share the fate you are going to choose!"

He bowed, turned on his heels and exited the barn with Duroc behind him.


	28. Chapter 28: Hesitations and Decisions

**Chapter twenty eight: Cardiff Hesitations and Decisions**

* * *

**Cardiff, Monday the 9****th**** October **

* * *

"I should never have accepted" said Darcy while looking at the clock. He was an early riser, always had been but here they had to wake him so tired was he.

"You've done your duty, love" answered Elizabeth who, like him, was dressing up.

Yesterday they had decided that they would carry their new burden together. She was only the consort with no official duty but thanks to that ambiguity she would be able to mold her role as it pleased them. And it pleased them to be together in their new life.

To support each other whenever possible and to give a new meaning to Royalty.

She wanted to affirm that even if she was only his consort she existed and she wanted to be part of the reign.

She came from behind and embraced him while lying her head on his back.

"As usual!"

"I don't know if I won't be a sham…"

"What an awful word. You are Fitzwilliam Darcy. The last honorable gentleman of the entirety of the British Islands…"

"That's perhaps too much…" smiled he.

"No, it isn't! I believe it, Jane believes it and her husband affirms it whenever he speaks about you… That should be enough to convince even you!"

He turned and took her in his arms.

"I feel inadequate for the role…"

"You are much better suited than both last Georges" countered she! "You are an honest man who thrives to better the fate of the people God gave him responsibility over! There are so few Kings who are worth to enter that exclusive Club."

He sighed.

"But a King must also be ruthless and sometimes make decisions which will bring doom on his people…"

She looked him in the eyes.

"For being ruthless, I agree. There are decisions you'll have to make which you won't like. I'm sure it was the same in Pemberley. Just on a smaller scale!"

"The scale is the problem! I was responsible for a few hundred people and now it is several thousand…"

Lizzie nodded.

"Sure, but it is _only_ a matter of scale."

She took his hands and kissed them.

"What's for you the most important thing a man or a woman should have?"

He answered immediately.

"Good health…"

She smiled and gave his a hug.

"You remember when you told me about Pemberley's doctor?"

He nodded.

"You made a decision to use your funds to hire a doctor and to pay him to look after not only your family but also after all your tenants and, if I listened correctly to what's said in town, to all who needed him."

She looked him in the eyes.

"That could be a decision to make for all of Wales. Use the funds the taxes will earn you to provide your people with a real medical care program. Hire midwives and nurses; build hospitals where the people will be taken care of without having to pay for it… Give all a chance to protect their health or to get it back if injured or ill and you'll have done more for your people than any former King."

Darcy chuckled and looked at her with love in his eyes.

"There is so much I'd like to do…"

"Since the funds won't be limitless you'll have to make choices, dear. Two choices in fact!"

She waited to let him think about the direction she wanted him to take.

"And which choices will I have to make?"

"You know them very well dear; you did it every day when you managed Pemberley and your other estates."

He thought about it and finally nodded.

"Indeed, first I have to choose what I'll do with the funds available and second, since there were plans I'd had to postpone, I'd had to decide how to get the funds I lacked to do everything…"

She nodded and smiled proudly at him.

"And do you think it will be different here?"

"There are things the Kingdom did I hadn't to do…"

"And you knew very well what the Kingdom provided and what not, didn't you?"

Once more he nodded.

"So you know what you had to provide and you know what the kingdom had to provide and so you know everything you need to know about being a King."

She laughed.

"In fact you know the job of a King even better than most, because you were at the last level that had to manage the people directly."

She took his hand and pulled him to the window.

They looked together out of the glass panel into the streets of Cardiff. They were teaming with people who were working and strolling.

"Look at the people, Fitzwilliam and ask yourself the only important question: what do you want to provide them with?"

He looked at her.

"Is it a question?"

"If it helps you to get back your confidence, yes!"

He closed his eyes and counted on his fingers.

"Health is the most important, because if they are ill they won't be able to work and to feed their families."

She nodded and smiled at him because she knew that the deaths of his parents had been the most earth shattering moments in his life. And his obsession about doctors and medicines could very well be explained because of them.

"What comes next?" insisted she.

"Work" came the answer. "They need to feed their families and to do that without becoming outlaws, they need to find a job." He frowned. "But then a lot of people in England had jobs but were nevertheless unable to feed their families…" He shook his head.

"No the first thing I have to do is to make sure that even the lowest wage is enough to feed a man and his family. And since uncle Gardiner and the Company are just doing that I won't risk seeing the employers going to England to invest their money there…"

He frowned again.

"They could go to Scotland or Ireland…"

"They could, but Scotland has much less arguments to pull investors in; but I agree they could go elsewhere with their money! So you'll have to find solutions to insure that it's not better for them to go than to stay…"

He frowned at her unusual sentence.

"Why not say make sure it's better for them to stay?"

Lizzie sighed.

"Because you'll have to tax them to pay for all the things you believe the people need. So they'll have the temptation to look elsewhere to find a place where the taxes are less important…"

"I still don't grasp the difference…" said Fitzwilliam.

"If they are here, it's for a reason, do we agree?"

"Of course…"

"So" continued Lizzie, "what you have to do is to make sure that the reasons they are here always bring enough benefits to push them to postpone their decision to leave."

His frown didn't disappear.

"There are benefits and benefits, Fitzwilliam. Wouldn't they stay even if your tax load is heavier than anywhere else if they found other benefits in Wales that they couldn't find elsewhere? Like the best health care or the best schools or the best roads…"

Fitzwilliam shrugged.

"I wouldn't leave but there are some who consider only their profits who would move…"

It was Lizzie's turn to shrug.

"Do you really want those to stay at all prices? Let them go, they are leaches, let them leach somewhere else!"

He frowned and then smiled at his wife.

"Aren't we vindictive today?"

"Not at all, Fitzwilliam, I'm just a little bothered by my love's mood."

She kissed him and he was quite eager to follow the road of mutual satisfaction but she refused to change the subject.

"Don't forget that we can always ask Uncle Gardiner to come and invest here too… If the leaches are gone he'll get even better opportunities to establish these new rules of conduct he is setting up in England. Not to speak about the tax reform Uncle is launching with Lebrun's help…"

She looked her husband in the eyes.

"You've all the tools to build a realm where justice and prosperity for all can be established. Your doubts are your only limits!"

A cough interrupted their talk.

They both turned and Abercranby bowed in their direction.

"I'm sorry, your Majesty but I do believe I eavesdropped on the end your conversation and I must admit that I concur totally with your wife. You must stop to believe yourself unworthy. You know everything you need to know, you must just adapt your knowledge to the scale of a Country. Where you invested hundreds of pounds, you'll have to invest several thousand to get the same results, that's all. But the decisions are probably the same you made since you began to manage Pemberley."

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"I never needed an army or a fleet…"

Abercranby nodded while smiling.

"That's true but everything will not be weighting on your shoulders. You haven't been appointed as an absolute Monarch, remember? We will have a constitution your Majesty and we are very sorry we didn't send you a copy before we asked you to come, but as it was we just stopped negotiating its content to crown you. Basically from what is written for now you won't have to decide for everything."

Lizzie frowned at the man who, without a doubt would be the Welsh Prime Minister in the very near future.

"Who's discussing the terms of _our_ future Constitution?"

Abercranby acknowledged the question with a frown of his own.

"The Constitutional Council is made of most of the people who were at Pemberley to negotiate with your brother, Madam. We added a few lawyers and, to be sure, the Bishop of Cardiff…"

"And there's probably, as usual when men discuss the future of the realm, no woman included!"

Abercranby made an apologetic gesture.

"I must confess that there are not many women interested in those matters…"

Lizzie's sarcastic smile was the first answer he got.

"Since I'm quite sure you didn't really ask women with enough knowledge to have an opinion it is quite natural that you found none. Which will stop right now…"

Abercranby lifted both eyebrows more in amazement than in shock.

"And you mean?"

"I mean that you just got a woman aboard, Mr. Abercranby. And to be even more precise, I do believe that the women quota in your little club of deciders has just drastically increased…"

She looked him in the eyes and he knew she wouldn't flinch.

"Or is the composition of your little coterie determined by some binding rule?"

Abercranby could only confess that it wasn't.

"It's a novelty, Madam. We had to improvise on the spot…"

"Well" said Fitzwilliam entering the fray. "It is time we stop improvising! Since it seems that I'm the only part of the Welsh power structure who's already set up and able to function I'll help you to give that Club of yours a steady and rightful place in Welsh's institutions."

* * *

"You must be kidding?"

Lady Catherine de Bourgh was rarely flabbergasted but this time she was even more than amazed, she was, almost, speechless.

"No, I'm not…" answered Lizzie. "I don't see a better suited woman to do that particular job." She turned toward Anne and smiled. "Your daughter not included…"

"You're not joking then?" insisted Lady de Bourgh.

"There is nothing to joke in that matter" stated Lizzie. "You probably ignore that we –Fitzwilliam and I, I mean–presented three conditions to the delegates in order to accept the Throne of Wales. First we insisted on a Constitution with a Bill of Rights where the three power, executive, legislative and justice would be strictly separated. Second we asked specifically that slavery, serfdom and debt-indenture would be excluded and condemned as crimes on all lands depending of the Welsh Crown and finally we asked for a strict equality between men and women in matters politics, family and inheritance."

Lady de Bourgh opened wide eyes.

"And they accepted?"

"And they accepted!"

Lizzie smiled at her opposite.

"I'm quite sure they imagined that they could wriggle out of their promises once Fitzwilliam crowned and settled." She laughed outright. "And I'm even more sure that they will fight till death in order to reduce the rights of women." Her smile became very shark like. "But since I'm ready to give them the best fight possible to get just everything I wanted when I proposed my conditions, it's not really a problem with me… The best arguments will win, that's all! I won't perhaps get everything but even a part will be so much more than everywhere else!"

Lady de Bourgh nodded and for the first time in her life Anne saw her mother sport a satisfied smile.

"I'm in, Elizabeth. I'll show them what a refined and determined woman can bring to a debate."

Lizzie looked at Anne.

"What about you cousin? I know through Jane that Geoffrey considers you to be one of the finest and sharpest minds in England. Won't you enroll in that little club of ours?"

Anne bowed her head in acknowledgement of Lizzie's compliment.

"No" answered she. "I won't!" She stopped Lizzie's remarks with a firm hand gesture.

"Not because I wouldn't fit in but because it would be an error to get me in with both of you. It would give our opponents a political argument against you. Nepotism is a very ugly way to enter the political arena. I know men do it constantly but if you do it they will strike at you because of it."

She smiled her most mischievous smile.

"I'll act as my mother's secretary if it pleases you. So I'll be there to advice but not to vote… And you should speak to Fitzwilliam to insist that he should be the ex-officio member of the Committee but that you speak for him while he goes about his royal occupations. You'll vote but in his name not yours. We don't want them to be able to point at us and accusing us of trying to trust the decision making. If necessary you'll leave it to him to cast the final vote! It will be much more effective this way."

Lizzie nodded her agreement.

"You are right, it's better that way. I'll speak to Fitzwilliam."

She looked at her cousin.

"You wouldn't have a few daring counsels to present to the King in order to improve the composition of that Constitutional Committee?"

Anne smiled and nodded shyly.

"It could be that I have, truth be said, a few ideas with which we could give said committee a few interesting new members."

* * *

Fitzwilliam looked at his perhaps future Prime Minister and nodded his agreement when he asked to speak.

He was about to present a summary of what the late Constitutional Committee had worked on.

The new one, with all the old members, plus a few –surprising–additions would held its inaugural reunion on next Wednesday morning.

"The works of the Committee, till now was rather bound on determining the King's Attributions. As a matter of fact the general consensus was that there should only be two domains which will be of your Majesty's sole competence: diplomacy and justice. The King would be our chief negotiator and our chief Justice. You'll appoint ambassadors and judges and you'll be the head of the Crown court of appeal."

He looked at Elizabeth.

"For the rest you'd have the power to propose bills to the parliament but the power to put them in effect or not will be the Parliament's… And you won't have the power to propose finance bills, which will be the sole competence of the Cabinet."

"What about the tax system?" asked Anne.

Abercranby shrugged.

"We didn't think about it. The tax system as it is seemed us sufficient enough…"

"Well" said Fitzwilliam, "on that point we disagree. It is clear that the present English tax system is based on the flawed premises that some incomes cannot be taxed. I believe that all income should be taxed in the same manner. Whoever benefits of an income should be taxed by the same margin. Some believe that the taxing should grow with the income but I think that would be unjust. I, as an estate manager and now a ruler, I am interested in earning more income. Knowing that a greater part of said income's growth would have been taken away by the Crown would have pushed me either into disloyalty or laziness. I want neither because I want justice and involvement."

He frowned at Abercranby.

"I want the people to know that if being rich isn't a sin, trying to benefit of the Crown's generosity without partaking to the Crown's income is like cheating the Crown, which should be considered a crime and be dealt with accordingly. So I ask that every income be it of common people, gentry or Church is taxed in the same manner. Everybody is protected by the army or the police, everybody is able to use the roads and bridges built by the State and everybody benefits of the efforts of the state to maintain peace, so it is normal that everybody pays its part of the States Income. It would be moronic to let privileges who could destroy the cohesion of the new Welsh Nation survive."

Abercranby made a face.

"They won't like it…"

"If they vote against, they will have to give me and the people their reasons and if their reasons are only greed and egotism they won't be able to convince _us_ at all. And while not convinced I'll go on asking for a change…" He smiled at Elizabeth. "And I'm renowned to get what I want even against the worst odds…"

He saw in Lizzie's look that he would pay for that sentence in private but it did get the message to Abercranby.

"I see what I can do to convince them, your Majesty" sighed Abercranby.

"I have every confidence in you, my Lord" smiled Fitzwilliam. "Let's not forget that we are stating an example here in Wales. It would be a pity for the Parliament to lose its opportunity. Be sure I won't lose mine!"


	29. Chapter 29: State Agreements

**Chapter twenty nine: State Agreements**

* * *

**Kilkea Castle, Monday the 9****th**** October **

"You took your time" grumbled George the younger.

"I had a war to win, your Highness. Even for me it takes a few days. It wasn't as bloodless as in England and I regret the death toll. Here your commanders chose to put the locals in the frontline to buy time… It was a mess."

"I hope you paid the price!" grumbled the Crown prince.

D'Arcy nodded.

"I lost two cavalrymen… They stumbled over a cliff while mopping up the fleeing remnants of the British army." He let a little lifeless smile adorn his lips. "I'll regret the horses, they were quite good Arabian half bred we stole in your London stables."

That shut the prince up.

"It serves you right" said the King. "Don't pick up a quarrel with a master or you'll pay the price."

Those last days had been a living hell for the Crown Prince with his father swinging in and out of normality. And since his father had none of his usual aids it had been his duty to help him and care for him. And he sure hadn't the soul of a caretaker!

As a result he had lost quite a few pounds.

Not enough to spare him his normal father's sarcasm or his crazy father's compassion.

He knew which he preferred.

"What do we do?" said he finally. "I suppose you know our proposal."

"Indeed I do and as your father surmised I'm here to strike the deal. But I have a demand which won't be in the general agreement. I ask for a deal between Geoffrey d'Arcy and the reigning King of England."

George the Third signed.

"What is it? What else do you intend to take from us?"

"I won't take it from you; I'll buy it from you. At the same price you bought it 36 years ago. Seventy thousand pounds!"

George the Third frowned.

"That was the price I paid for the isle of Man."

"And that's the price I'll pay for it. And you should accept my offer because the Irish temporary government won't wait very long to grasp for it!"

He smiled.

"It seems that in the torment of events that little British Isle has been forgotten by everybody. Even I must have forgotten about that little forlorn Crown possession and did no claim to incorporate it in France's new départements. So, technically it is still yours to sell. And technically it is still mine to buy. Or, if we don't agree, it could be for its neighbors to claim..."

He leaned back into his chair.

"What will it be, your Majesty?"

"How will I get the money?"

"You'll get it where and in the form you prefer it. I would advise a bill of exchange on my Venetian Bank. It would give you a registered share nobody but you can get. It is the most secure way to travel with such a huge amount."

George the Third nodded.

"I suppose you have the contract ready?"

It was immediately on his desk.

"I already signed" said d'Arcy.

"You are a very confident man" grumbled the Crown Prince. "I was tempted to refuse."

"Just to spite me? That's a rather petty movement!"

"He is a petty man" said the King while signing. "That's probably why he tries to look like a Walrus."

"Stop it father, I'm no…"

"Shut up George! While I'm normal I'll say what I want and that's it…"

He handed the contract to d'Arcy who took it and handed another sheet of paper to the King.

"The bill of exchange, your Majesty. You'll be able to cash the money in every bank in Europe or America."

The King took it and gave it to his son.

"Take it you'll need it the next time I'm out of my mind. I could burn it just to look at the pretty flame."

"If you lose it, I'll grant you a copy, have no fears" smile d'Arcy. "It's under your name nobody else will be able to cash it."

"Both our names?" asked the Crown Prince.

"It's under the name of Georg von Hannover" answered d'Arcy while pronouncing it in perfect German. "If I remember well that's both your name."

The King nodded and put a few sheets of paper out of a portfolio.

"This is my proposal, monsieur le Proconsul. And if you accept we agree that the French will clear all remaining English lands in their possession."

D'Arcy shook his head.

"The French troops will evacuate the English mainland immediately leaving behind the police force and enough public servants to manage the land while the people of England decide what type of government they want."

He smiled.

"Jersey and Guernsey will remain under French authority. As a Normandy Noble I can't let those _French _islands stay under English yoke any more than necessary… It is a matter of principle!"

* * *

Two hours later d'Arcy was reading the last article of the fourth copy of the Peace treaty. He was a very thorough man when it came to politics.

He nodded for the first time.

"That's quite an accomplishment, your Majesty. And the French translation is quite a nice touch!"

George the Third made a face.

"It's not as if we had a lot else to do, isn't it? So we polished the text, translated it and made copies…"

D'Arcy acknowledged their work with a knowing smile. The King's handwriting –he wrote the English text–was finer than that of his son –who apparently was very fluent in French–but both texts were similar.

"I must say that if you hadn't included those poor French islands in the Treaty I could have taken it to Napoleon without even revising it. So we will have to rewrite the sheet where you listed, rather painstakingly, all of England's possessions we would clear."

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Or I could simply cross those French Islands from the list. What do you prefer?"

"Cross them off" answered the King. "It will show that I didn't let them go without trying to keep them. I'll note the change on the last sheet of paper."

"Then" said d'Arcy "we can sign now and go together to Paris…"

That brought a heavy silence in the room.

"Paris? Why Paris" asked the Prince. "We thought that, once signed we would happily part and never see each other again!"

D'Arcy shook his head and tried a placating smile.

"We can't do this without the First Consul. It would have little sense to sign this master piece of a treaty just to see Napoleon rip it in pieces out of spite and pettiness, now would it?"

George the Third made a face.

"But what will happen to us, afterwards?"

"If we play this in the right manner, you'll be for the rest of your lives welcome guest at Napoleon's soon to be court and if you wish it, live in France under quite satisfying circumstances. I could myself introduce you with one of my Loire Estates where one of the best French white wines is produced."

"The English people would brand us traitors…" protested George the Prince.

"Because you've abdicated to give them their freedom?" asked d'Arcy. "I doubt that very much! I hope you know that they don't like you at all, your Highness. Now even less than six months ago. You've lost all sympathy in most of your subjects' hearts. But if they see that you went to Paris to broker their freedom against yours, their resentment should probably be reduced quite a lot!"

He made a fatalistic gesture.

"But I'm also quite sure that they won't ever like you, your Highness! You've such an awful image, it will be forever impossible to readjust it in your people's mind…"

The Crown Prince snorted.

He knew it himself that the English people didn't like him. And since he was only the crown Prince he was the unhappy subject to pamphlets and nasty jokes! Only his brother Frederick was considered even less than him.

He sighed.

"I know but I'm worry about Napoleon's reaction. He could just show us off and then have us guillotined!"

D'Arcy could only laugh at the Prince's gullibility.

"Be careful not to be a victim to your own propaganda, your Highness. Napoleon is indeed a ruthless opponent but he is also a shrewd politician who feels every opportunity he crosses on his journey. I already forced him to show unwanted leniency by letting Wales and Scotland out of his greedy clutches but now he has surely grasped all the benefit these two gestures had granted France and him. And so he will see the great opportunity to go on in that direction. He won't like it any better than the loss of Wales and Scotland but he will understand the benefits he can gather by going on in that particular direction. He'll be able to show off as the liberator of French Canada and he will appear once more as a very moderate politician who's able to abandon a land –and riches–he had already conquered."

D'Arcy nodded while smiling.

"He will love that last image!" The smile disappeared and he pointed at his two opposites.

"But don't be fools and believe that he's really enamored in that peculiar image. He will wear it as long as necessary to placate and reassure Europe's rulers that he has changed but underneath he will remain the fearless and ruthless predator whose only goal in life is to get more power, more riches and more adulation!"

"And we should trust such a man?" asked the Crown Prince.

"He's the man who holds England final fate in his hands. I can sign the treaty and he will probably respect my signature but the only way to be sure he won't come back on my word is to force him to give _his_ word." D'Arcy nodded more for himself than for the men in front of him. "Yes, if he signs he will respect this agreement, if not…"

The King stood up.

"I'm weary of this place. Let's go to Paris and be done with this!"

He looked at d'Arcy.

"I hope that estate of yours has a good library?"

"I don't know, I never was there, it belonged to a branch of the family that died rather early in the Terror phase of the Revolution. Further I believe the neighbors have been rather interested in saving from robbers everything able to be moved." A feral smile appeared on his lips. "They were easily convinced to bring everything back and to put it where they first found it… So there should be a few books available. But be sure that, should you decide to accept my hospitality that you'll have access to the best library of the Loire Region." His smile changed for his more ironic cousin. "I could even accept that the part of your Palace library still in crates was moved to my castle. As a sign of good will…"

The Crown Prince sighed.

"Of course…" he nodded. "At least the wine is good?"

"One of the best in France…"

* * *

"You go back to France and you take our guests with you" said d'Arcy while speaking to the little group of officers who had gathered around him. "I want you to bring them to my castle in Passy. Nobody learns anything about their presence there! And I'm adamant: no-bo-dy!"

He massaged his neck and stretched. He hadn't had the opportunity to sleep since the battle at Belfast and it was showing. He would have to sleep here before going on to Cardiff.

"I'll join you there as soon as possible and until I'm there, the Castle must look as if unoccupied by important guests. You'll be visible and you'll pass yourself as a work gang charged with renovating the Castle to bring it up to modern standards under the guard of two dozen guards. There is a crew of servant there and even if they are trustworthy they don't have to know who our guests are. If asked they are parents of my wife who wanted to come to France in advance while I close my affairs in Great Britain."

"We are done with Ireland, Boss?"

D'Arcy looked at the young Arab who just spoke. He had gathered quite a few of those in Egypt and Syria and they were his staunchest supporters.

"Not yet, Djamal. The Irish are hot-heads. They need to be shepherded into safety or they'll be at each other's throats in no time. I'll have to make a few round trips between Wales and Ireland within the next month to stabilize the situation. But I believe we'll be done with Ireland before the end of fall. December we should be back home." _Wherever home is for me_…

"We go back to Syria?"

D'Arcy smiled. Of course home is different for everyone.

"Indeed we go back to Syria, but before we have that job in Paris to complete. After that I suppose I'll have a little time to journey with my wife. And Syria is a wonderful land full of architectural marvels. I'm quite sure my wife will love the land and its people…"

Djamal smiled his most flashing smile.

"And when the people look at your wife they'll know that Allah has looked at you and smiled benevolently."

That remark made d'Arcy laugh aloud.

"I have no doubt, Djamal. No doubt at all!" He tapped the young Arab on the shoulder. "And what's even better, Djamal I believe you're right…"


	30. Chapter 30: Dublin home coming

**Chapter thirty: Dublin Home coming**

* * *

**Dublin, Tuesday the 10****th**** October **

* * *

"Mister Bingley" said Kitty while curtsying. Her eyes were smiling even if her face was serious.

"Miss Catherine" answered Bingley while bowing. "It's a pleasure to be in your presence."

"I concur" answered Kitty.

"You don't look surprised… Was I expected?"

"Since yesterday" answered Kitty. "I knew you couldn't do it in time but I was hoping you'd find some way to come faster…" she winked. "Like flying…"

He laughed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry but our prototype of flying machine will only come out of the company's workshop next month. I would have loved to come here flying but it would have signified a too long wait. And I fear that's not enough patience in the whole world to counteract my desire to see you…"

Kitty's smile grew with her pleasure.

"Your compliments are flowery, Mr. Bingley. It is said that men easy with compliments have afterthoughts…"

"It is said with wisdom then" answered he. "Because I must admit that I _have _afterthoughts!"

A voice interrupted their slow attempt to merger.

"And as a father I'm not very satisfied that a young lout like yourself has the cheek to confess having them."

Bingley didn't flinch but just looked at Mr. Bennet.

"You could have waited a minute longer" said Charles. "Then you would have had reasons to be really angry…"

"That's what intuition's for, young man! I don't want to be angry at you so I jump at you in time to save the perfect image of you I foster in my heart."

Charles smiled at Mr. Bennet and surprisingly the old man embraced him.

"I haven't yet authorized you to court any of my daughters, young man! Don't you forget it!" whispered Mr. Bennet while tapping enthusiastically the young man's back.

"Glad to have you aboard" added he in a normal voice. "I'm sure Fitzwilliam will be very happy to have an old friend at his side. This King job is a lot more taxing than he thought before accepting it."

"I'm sure he is perfect in his new job. As he was perfect in everything he endeavored before…"

"Except courting Lizzie" interjected Kitty. "That was not perfect at all! As was your own floundered courting with Jane!"

It could have been difficult for Charles to react at that sentence had Kitty not spoken with a bright smile on her lips.

"I really hope your next attempt to be much better prepared…" She winked at him. "If you need advice how to seduce a Bennet daughter I could be of help…"

"Catherine Bennet" said her mother in that loud but no longer shrill voice of hers. "How unbecoming a sentence that was…"

Kitty turned on her heels and smiled at her mother.

"Since Lydia is so much more serious I feel it has become my duty, now, to maintain the Bennet silliness, Mama!"

Mrs. Bennet shook her head and tried to look angry. But her sparkling eyes did tell her lie.

"Welcome in Cardiff, Mr. Bingley and don't listen to my daughter there's no such thing as a Bennet silliness." She made a rather effectual pout. "And even if, in the past there have been tiny traces of unbecoming behavior with some of my daughters, it is long past."

She curtsied at the young man whose smile was as flashing as in old days.

"Your arrival was long awaited, Charles, since my brother made no secret about sending you here to…" she smiled at him. "Do business!"

"Indeed, Mrs. Bennet. I'm here to work…" he glanced at Kitty. "But I do hope that I'll find a few minutes in the evening to spend with you and your family."

"You'll be welcome but be prepared to rather lengthy days. That King business is no joke and Fitzwilliam is, as you know, thorough in everything."

Charles acknowledged with a bow.

"He was always the most serious gentleman in town. I long ago abandoned all hope to transform him in a party lover."

"He's perhaps serious but he's never boring" said Kitty coming to her royal brother's help. "And when he smiles it does lighten a room in the same a fashion as your smile, Mr. Bingley."

"You're too kind with us, Miss Catherine".

"No she isn't" interrupted Mr. Bennet while taking the young man by his elbow and pulling him with him. "And stop that nonsense 'Miss Catherine' business! I know quite well that you call her Kitty when you are ignorant of the mass of Bennet spies lurching in the shadow. So please don't play the fool with us. I once upon a time would have been very satisfied had you asked the permission to court one of my daughters, I'm still of the same good opinion!"

The door opened and there stood Jane and her smile when she saw him melted his bowels.

"Charles" said she while embracing him. "What a pleasure to have you with us. With Fitzwilliam and Lizzie overwhelmed with royal business we were in want of a man who lives up a place with his good humor and perfect education. With you here we will perhaps even have a chance to pull the royal couple out of policy making!"

Charles smiled at her.

"For nothing in the world would I have accepted that job" said he. "I know Fitz is the best suited for it but it will be taxing him more than he believed."

Jane nodded but her smile was a symphony in contradictions.

"He'll surmount these first hectic days and come out of it his old shining self. And it had done wonders to his self-esteem. I'm sure you'll be very surprised with King William the First…"

"Protector of the Faithful…" chipped Kitty in.

He frowned at the Bennets a question in his eyes.

"Don't pay attention to their silly game" said Jane. "It seems that Lydia has found back to her old self and has decided that Fitzwilliam deserved to be teased more. So each time we speak about Fitzwilliam using his title they add a title or two… Like…"

"Protector of the Land…" added Lydia who was just entering the parlor. "I suppose you were all speaking ill of me and my little idea?"

Her tone could be mistaken for anger but her eyes were sparkling like of old.

"Mr. Bingley" said she while curtsying. "What a pleasure to have you with us." She winked at him. "I'm quite sure you came only because my Uncle forced you!"

He entered her game with a flashing smile and a bow.

"Indeed, Miss Lydia. We London dandies do wither when we're not in Town. Without your Uncle's threats to fire me never would I have accepted to come to this forlorn place where people probably won't even speak correct English…"

And with Lydia at his right arm and Jane at his left he let himself be pulled away.

* * *

"You're a moron and an idiot" shrieked Lady de Bourgh silencing immediately the shocked Lord Kendal who was trying to explain why women shouldn't be given the right to vote.

"My Lady, please" interrupted the chairman. "You can't go on insulting a fellow delegate."

"And it isn't an insult when a brain-dead snail dares to say in front of a woman that all women are too dumb to understand politics?"

"I didn't say anything of the sort" protested Kendal. "I just…"

"Called me a liar in front of everybody!" interjected lady de Bourgh. "Were you or were you not saying that women don't have the brain capacity to follow complex thought processes?"

"Indeed and I can prove it…"

That brought a snarl on Lady de Bourgh's face.

"Oh, you can prove it?" She leaned back and smiled at him. Had he been a hare he would have died of a heart failure.

"Let's hear your proof, My Lord. I'm very curious to be convinced that I'm as dumb as a stone…"

Lord Kendal looked at the Chairman but Lord Cavendish just looked at him with interest.

"I can't I don't have my test subject at hand…"

"Haaa…" shouted Lady de Bourgh. "So that is how it works! You go find a perfect uneducated and guileless woman and you base all your so-called results of experiences made on her?" She stood and made a large gesture encompassing everybody present. "Gentlemen I'm very proud today to announce to the world that I'll be able to show to mankind that all men are cheaters and morons!" She pointed at Lord Kendal. "And I won't need to go get my favorite subject! He's there in front of you!"

"That's enough…" Lord Kendal looked rather desperate and clearly would have welcomed any help coming from any quarter. But he was not up to his opponent. Lady de Bourgh had scented blood and she was out for the kill!

"What's enough Lord Kendal? Being forced to hear the truth? Are you too great a coward to accept to stand against an old frail woman? One of those human beings with not enough brain capacity to follow complex thought processes!"

She darted daggers at him.

"Go on, my Lord, say it! Say that you're afraid to stand against me, say it!"

Lord Kendal could only stammer a few incomprehensible sounds. Lady de Bourgh stepped in his direction and soon he was with his back against a wall.

"I must protest, gentlemen. I'm confronted by that hysteric woman…"

Lady de Bourgh was immediately at his throat.

"Here it comes" said she with a very cool and frosty voice. "The poor defenseless male is confronted by a dangerous hysteric female!"

She stepped back and darted ugly glances at the other members of the committee.

"Won't you come to his help, this poor little creature is on the brink of swooning because an old woman wasn't cowed enough to let a man of standing utter that she has not enough brain capacity to follow complex thought-processes? Don't you agree with him?"

"My Lady" cried the Chairman. "Enough is enough!"

Surprisingly fast was she before said chairman. She shot him a fiery and resolute glance.

"I don't remember hearing our impartial chairman here protesting when Lord Kendal declared me and every other woman on this earth too dumb to understand complex ideas! Or could it be that insulting a woman is not considered by our impartial chairman as an insult at all? Why would that be, fellow delegates? How would you have reacted if I had declared that Welsh men have not enough brain capacity to follow complex thought processes? Would you have taken it with calm and serenity?"

She stomped her walking stick on the ground.

"I believe not! But because he insulted a woman you considered that it was not worth to intervene!" She shot a few ugly glances to those of the delegates who had shown that they agreed with Lord Kendal.

"Or would it be that is was simply because you consider yourself so much better than women that you agree with the declaration of Lord Kendal?"

Some of her fellow delegates found surprisingly interesting items to observe on the floor.

Lady de Bourgh slammed her walking stick once more on the floor. More than half the delegates jumped.

"Well if my suspicion is founded I'll have no other choice but to prove to you that a woman can easily outsmart any man."

She stood up and gained a few inches.

"I'll be the women's champion!"

She looked at her fellow delegates.

"It's up to you to select your champion, gentlemen!" She pointed at Lord Kendal. "Normally it should have been my Lord Kendal but I fear that his confrontation with that old hysteric woman has snuffed out the little fighting spirit that was left in that frail little shell!"

That got her a few discreet laughs from the delegates and a wave of heartfelt laughter from the platform floor.

She lifted her eyebrows and her voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"And we wouldn't want to place the fate of the males of the species into the trembling hands of a poor helpless sod!"

She turned once around in order to look at all of the delegates.

"But be very cautious, gentlemen, because my d'Arcy nephew after confronting me a few times has nicknamed me the Dragon! And don't you doubt for a second that I won't roast your champion and send him back whimpering to the only creature able to protect him against me: his mama!"

After that the public went mad and the session had to be interrupted.

Clearly nobody volunteered to be the males champion and Lady Catherin de Bourgh won by lack of opposition!

* * *

"I love it, dear" said her mother when they were back in the apartment she shared with her daughter.

"I did suspect as much, Mama," said Anne while smiling. "And I must say that you were impressive. I would have applauded if it wouldn't have been outrageous. But you deserve my admiration…"

Lady de Bourgh went at her daughter's side and embraced her.

"Thanks, dear, it means a lot for me… I feared I had lost your esteem forever."

"As long as you treat me as an adult, mama, I'll have no qualm recognizing that you are the most impressive de Bourgh living."

That made Catherine de Bourgh rather thoughtful.

"That's not very difficult, dear, there are only two de Bourghs left. I'm sorry for that. I see it now, I should have remarried…"

Anne embraced her mother and kissed her.

"None of us is dead yet and if you go on like this afternoon I'm quite sure you'll last for at least another decade!"

Lady de Bourgh sighed before nodding.

"I'll do what I can to last, I promise."

"I can't ask for more, mother. But don't forget that your heart is no longer as young as you would wish. Be careful…"

"I will dear, I will…"

* * *

"Did you hear?" asked Jane.

"Of course, I heard" answered Lizzie. "The whole town is probably speaking of nothing else."

She laughed out loud.

"They call her the Dragon of Kent and she's about to become our greatest ally. Who would have thought?"

"Geoffrey always knew that she would be our best support. He spoke about nominating her in the House of Lords in place of some Lord in Exile. He said she would make a great hit in politics. And after what she did this afternoon, I do believe he's right."

Lizzie giggled.

"I was there, hiding behind a curtain and I had difficulties to stay serious. I'm sure Lord Kendal was scarred shitless. I was sure he would soon swoon! It was very funny."

Jane smiled at her sister.

"So now she makes you laugh! I'm quite sure that you only need a few more days to begin to love each other…"

"I doubt she even knows what it means to love…"

"She loved her husband, I'm sure of it! And even if she really ignored how to love, I'd say that it is a marvelous endeavor to teach it to her!"

Lizzie embraced her elder sister.

"You're really a rarity, dear! I love you!"

Jane was rather amazed about her sister's words.

She had never had any doubts about her sister's feelings but it was probably the first time in both her lives Lizzie had said it aloud.

"So do I, dear… So do I!"


	31. Chapter 31: London stunts

**Chapter thirty one: London stunts**

* * *

**London, Wednesday the 11****th**** October **

* * *

"They almost got us" said George with a smile.

"You spent too much time on that roof throwing those flowers…" grumbled Pitney who even if in better health than his accomplice was like him out of breath. "We could have been gone easily before anybody looked up. But you had to throw those flowers at the passer-by."

"It's important to let my sign, Pitney. There must be no confusion: George Darcy did it!"

"I still think it's a moronic idea. It will get you caught!"

George snorted.

"They are already after me, thank to that traitorous minion of Gardiner's Company. Once discovered I had no choice. Would you have preferred us hiding in an attic whimpering and trembling?"

Pitney didn't answer; he _would_ have preferred it but now it was too late.

George Darcy laughed out loud.

"No it's much better this way." He took Pitney by the shoulders and shook him. "I'm famous, Pitney. Thanks to you, I'm the most famous Darcy ever!"

"You're the most wanted Darcy ever" replied Pitney. "And you're only known here in London and more than probably more by the French than by our fellow patriots."

"That will change with the pamphlet, Pitney! Soon the whole town will laugh at those French baboons!"

Once more George shouted out in exhilaration.

"God, I'm feeling alive as never before!"

He grabbed Pitney by the arm and pulled him behind him.

"Two more flags to swap, man and we are done for tonight!" He snickered sarcastically. "And tomorrow we launch operation Green Daffodil! That will really upset the French!"

* * *

"He makes us look like fools!" grumbled Lebrun after having read the news of the night. "He swapped seven flags in the whole town and now those green daffodil paintings are burgeoning everywhere in town."

Belgram could only smile at the Consul's irritation.

"It's more a prank than anything else" said he. "I'm doing my best to get him but I prefer using my men to do real police job than losing their time at night trying to jump a little group of pranksters."

Lebrun shook his head.

"I agree and I disagree. I agree because you're right not to spend our police forces on a goose chase and I disagree about the prank. It looks like a prank but it is only the beginning of a very well-conceived operation."

Lebrun went back to his office and sipped at his chocolate.

"They began with organizing meetings, and I would have bet that their next step would have been to push all those upset people in little urban riots." He shook his head. "Nothing very important. A few attacks against work gangs or a few stores looted and burned… Then it would have escalated…"

"Thanks to this informant we were able to quench that threat very early in the game."

Lebrun nodded.

"Indeed and I hoped that would stop him. Not push him into that Green Daffodil farce!"

The Third Consul took the paper of the reports and went once more over the conclusion.

"That's not like that George Darcy, Michael. He's the backstabber type, the type of petty criminal who burns your house while you are sleeping peacefully in your bed in order to get at you without taking a risk. That prankster play seems very unwickhamlike to me…"

Belgram shrugged.

"He's even signing his transgressions with those green flowers of him. No doubt it's him! I even have two of my men who were able to chase them for a lengthy time through half of London."

Lebrun nodded.

"I know, I know. It's just that it isn't the type of things I would await from the sort of him…"

Belgram shrugged again. He was doing that a lot in Lebrun's presence.

"I suppose that once he recognized that we knew about his scheme he decided to go on but no longer in the shadow. Known for known he wants now to be popular with the London people. He probably hopes that if he is sufficiently popular in London we won't dare execute him…"

Lebrun frowned and finally nodded.

"Yes, you could be right, that's a weasel like thinking I can easily associate with Slimy George…"

He nodded once more and a little smile appeared on his lips.

"And he'll probably bask in his new found popularity. And he will want more and more of it. As I feel it he will be searching for ways to perform even more impressive and daring acts."

Lebrun sat at his desk and took a sheet of paper.

"You're right about not going on a goose chase. As long as he makes just people laugh at us he is an annoyance but no real danger. Don't let us make the failure to over react and to put the town on fire. No need to call for the army and risk a bloodbath…"

He smiled at Belgram.

"Let's stay soft. Let's use the same weapons he uses. Get a few dozen workers and let them clean up the graffiti while the paint is fresh. And if it's too late, let them paint over those Green Daffodils. Try to find something funny to cover them. If not funny try utilitarian. As for the flags let's begin with lessening their numbers and put a watch near most of them. That will probably deter his enthusiasm and if it doesn't give orders to just follow up and swap his flags for our own as soon as he is done." Lebrun snickered. "We have more flags and paint than them so we'll go for an attrition war. Soon they will be starved of flags and paint and either they will have to get more of them or they'll change strategy…"

"I could put a watch before every shop who…"

"No" interrupted Lebrun. "There's no need. If they want to go on with their little flag prank I'll take it for as long as it lasts. While they swap flags and paint the walls they don't blow up shops or public works sites! Because should they went into that ugly business we wouldn't have a choice but to call for the army. And I really, really don't want that to happen!"

* * *

Edward Gardiner made a face.

His wife looked up, grabbed his arm and pulled him to her.

"What's up? Why this upset mien?"

"It's our George Darcy again! He's preparing something…"

"He swaps flags on public buildings, dear! Even I find it funny. He's quite the central theme of Town Gossip. Everyone likes the idea. It shows fighting spirit without threatening lives. I wouldn't have thought George Darcy able of that sort of thinking."

Edward Gardiner nodded and sighed.

"Neither would I and it really bothers me. Since I've been informed that one of our gang workers denounced him to the Gendarmerie I have been wary about his next move. I even hired a few strong arms to patrol the sites where we are working."

Mrs. Gardiner nodded.

"Don't belittle the gifts God bestows upon us. If he prefers his pranks to more dangerous activities it's a blessing and let's be grateful for it."

Mr. Gardiner shook his head.

"I'm grateful but I'm worried. I can't believe he'll stay reasonable. You know that he tried to hire pirates to sink our ship while we were sailing to Cardiff? That man is a very dangerous and greedy lunatic. When I think of him I see a stalker and a back alley murderer not an honest freedom fighter."

Mrs. Gardiner tried to get up her husband's mood.

"Does something like an honest freedom fighter even exist?"

He smiled at her attempt.

"I don't know but what I know about George Darcy is very clear: he isn't honest and he has none of the qualities I associate with a man fighting for his country's freedom. Let's not forget that it is the same George who worked for d'Arcy and allowed the French army to disembark without taking a loss…"

It was his wife's turn to make a face.

"It was also the whole staff's fault! You can't deny that giving that man the responsibility of defending the town while partying and dancing wasn't the cleverest idea…"

"I won't deny that our Staff was a bunch of useless cronies but the fact remains that George Wickham was the man who was on d'Arcy's payroll on that August night. I just cannot fathom how the traitor has been able to turn himself into a patriot."

Mrs. Gardiner shrugged.

"He's probably not honest in his creed, dear but that doesn't mean he's not doing what he does in the best interest of England."

She stopped her husband before he was able to protest.

"Please, I'm not saying we should trust him, I'm just saying that if he deems it in his interest to play the freedom fighter he'll do it as long as it serves its purpose. And he'll probably do it as well as possible even if it goes against his innermost feelings."

"You're right, dear and it worries me even more. I won't lower my guard and go on keeping an eye on the exploits of dear George Darcy!"

_Hoping that I'll be able to see his next move before he hurts someone I love._


	32. Chapter 32: Cardiff Call In

**Chapter thirty two: Cardiff call in **

* * *

**Cardiff, Thursday the 11****th**** October **

* * *

He had been able to surprise her and she had been very effusive in her appreciation of his home coming. There was no doubt that she had liked the surprise very much.

"I love you" said he in a whisper while laying his head on her breasts and letting his finger plays with her blond hair.

"I love you too, and I'm discovering that my love for you is strengthening by the day!" answered she. "It's a marvelous feeling!"

"That it is, _mon amour_. That it is and I confess that I feel the same."

Jane kissed the top of his head and wriggled herself into his embrace. Soon she was nestled in his arms.

"How's Ireland?"

"Soon to be free of the English yoke but even I can't say more about its future. The Irish themselves don't know what they want. They all wanted to get rid of the occupation forces but now that they got it they are unable to decide what to do with their new earned freedom."

She sighed.

"Was there a battle?"

He nodded.

"They refused my offer to surrender and stood against my men at Belfast. It was a massacre. Luckily they didn't last long and soon ran. But we killed more than five hundreds of them. They never stood a chance."

He shook his head.

"The worst in this affair is that they knew perfectly well it was futile. We stood two to one and my men are veterans of many battles while they were only militiamen or garrison troops. They knew they were doomed and they stood nevertheless."

He sighed.

"From time to time I wonder about mankind's intelligence. Why is it that sometimes the obvious is ignored in favor of an illusion?"

"People don't very easily accept truths that go against what they believe. I do think that sometime it's easier to envision its own death than accepting the changes the unavoidable future brings. Change is a very frightening situation. Most people can't accept changes at all so rooted are they in their certainties. "

He kissed her for the tears she was shedding because of the death of perfect idiots.

"I'm still puzzled… While there's life there's a possibility to reach new levels of satisfaction…"

"Or dissatisfaction…" countered she. "These people weren't in a normal mood. They just lost their homeland to you and they were going to also lose their home. People in that mind set no longer hope. They only despair and despairing is a very strong incentive to let go."

"And die?"

"It's the ultimate let go, dear! If you're sufficiently despairing offering your life to God can sometimes be a better issue than going on despairing."

"Perhaps" said he. "But it's still difficult for me to understand. I was offering very acceptable conditions. We are no monsters who kill randomly. They had even the possibility to stay in Ireland."

"Were you ever despairing?"

He nodded.

"Every time I saw my mother pulled away by my father."

He looked at her.

"But it always made me angrier and my hope to be, one day; able to crush him always gave me the strength to go on."

She nodded.

"Hate does that to people."

"So does love, _mon amour_" whispered he. "I know that while there is a spark of hope to come back to you I'll never give up. You've anchored me in life better than any rope or chain."

She kissed him in acknowledgement of his compliment.

"I'm proud of it… If I have done nothing to be proud of when at the end of my life I stand before God that will be the feat I'll put at the fore!"

_And you can be proud love; you've done even more than that. You've nurtured my dying humanity and doing so you saved quite a lot of people._

_Time to change topic_.

"The day after the battle I sent my armies against Londonderry and myself went negotiating with the Hannovers…"

She craned at him.

"What Hannovers?"

"George the Third and his son, as you know they were my guests for quite some time and I made them a proposal…"

Jane smiled and nodded.

"Did they accept?"

"They would have been fools not to. And even George the King was sane enough to see the light."

He took her head in his hands and looked her in the eyes.

"So we are going to Paris to present the new peace Treaty between the British Government and the Consulate to our great leader."

She made a face.

"I'm not sure I'm ready… I'm…"

"My wife, my love, my world…" interrupted he. "That's enough to be welcome everywhere in France. Stop to fret about it. I'm very proud to be able to show off with you in Paris, _mon amour_. I know you're reticent but there's no reason. The people will love you and at the same time be jealous of your beauty, your charm and your kindness."

He laughed out loud.

"I can't wait!"

"I could…" whispered she in a mute voice.

He tightened his embrace and smiled at her.

"I said: stop fretting about it. You'll be perfect and you'll seduce the Parisians like you seduced the Londoners."

She looked lovingly at him.

From time to time she wondered if she wasn't dreaming and if the sweet dream wouldn't just disappear letting her alone and stunned.

* * *

"He's back." said Darcy.

"And victorious I suppose" added Edward Bennet.

"He offered to report to me immediately but I adjourned it to tomorrow morning. I will invite the members of the cabinet. They will want to know and I suppose d'Arcy won't refuse to speak before them."

"Not even a hint?" insisted Mr. Bennet.

"He spoke of a battle in Belfast. I suppose that he wouldn't be here if it had been a defeat. And he is bound for Paris within days. So I suppose he goes there to give Napoleon a complete report of the Irish campaign.'

Mr. Bennet nodded.

"The British hadn't a chance!" whispered he. "The French went there with twice the troops stationed in Ireland, and if I remember well half those forces surrendered in Cardiff. And at four against one with a commander like d'Arcy they were just doomed."

Darcy nodded and looked at his father in law.

"What I fear most is the despair which will fall upon our people. Who can still hope after such a string of defeats? Is there a future for us?"

Edward Bennet went at his son's side.

"Of course there's hope, son! What did we lose? Not even an army since we had none."

"England is under French control, father! We lost our liberty. We are now subjects of our enemies!"

Mr. Bennet snorted.

"Most people were already subjects, Fitzwilliam and the French rule didn't change anything for them. You look at what happened from your upper class perspective, that's all. But most people don't see it as you! I spoke with quite a few Londoners and they like it better now! In the past they weren't very happy with their life, Fitzwilliam!"

"We could have done better, I admit" recognized Darcy. "But with time we would have done better, I'm sure of it!"

Edward Bennet laughed out loud.

"You're an optimist, Fitzwilliam. I'm sure of just the opposite. I've seen what was happening in those new factories and it didn't look at a bright future, Fitzwilliam. I was looking at a living hell where entire families were forces to toll from sun dawn to sunset to just gain enough to survive. Without the Company and d'Arcy we were steering toward the creation of a new form of slavery and we would have been doomed because of it!"

His serious mien disappeared and a smile was soon painted on his face.

"But I wouldn't be so desperate was I in your place. I'm quite sure England's fate is not yet conclusively sealed. I feel that not everything is written!" he taped the new King on the shoulder. "Don't lose hope son, you travel toward a bright future! And I, I'm very happy to know my daughters will take part of it at the sides of fantastic men."

* * *

"Can I intrude?"

Lady de Bourgh looked up and immediately passed from dozing happily to glaring threateningly.

But when she saw the face of the intruder she eased up immediately.

"Sure, Elizabeth, you're here at home."

Lizzie smiled back and curtsied to her aunt.

"These are your apartments, you're free to choose who you host. Should you chose to close your door to me I wouldn't insist."

Lady de Bourgh acknowledged with a nod and pointed toward the empty sofa in front of her.

"And with whom could I quarrel if I couldn't see you?"

Lizzie snickered.

"Lord Kendal, perhaps?"

"Certainly not" chortled Lady Catherine. "That whimpering snail has the back bone of a tadpole. No sport fighting those old women! I prefer every day a stout country girl!"

"Just ask, I'll be at your immediate disposition my Lady" answered Elizabeth which brought out a happy laugh from her aunt.

"What can I do for you, Elizabeth?"

"I came to thank you, my Lady."

"Because of the snail?"

"Well he was being abusive and his fellow delegates were very partial to his thesis. You took him down a peg or two."

Lady Catherine snickered sarcastically.

"That I did! This one won't insult a woman again. Not with me in hearing range, that I promise."

Lizzie let out a tired sigh.

"He deserved it and I wanted to let you know that I am proud of having been able to assist to your performance. More to the point I'm even proud of having such a fearless woman as an aunt."

She made her most innocent face.

"But let's be very clear even under duress I will never say anything of the sort while in public!"

"I would hope not" answered her aunt, "we're both strong women no use to let them know there are soft spots hidden somewhere within."

Elizabeth nodded and smiled at what she considered the greatest confession and sign of affection she would probably ever get from her aunt.

"That's true, my Lady, they don't need to know!"

She stood and made the hint of a curtsy.

"I'll be on my way; with hope Fitzwilliam will soon be free to join me. I wouldn't like to miss him."

Lady Catherine nodded her agreement and Lizzie quitted her aunt's sitting room.

* * *

"She's asleep, general" said Mary after having curtsied to the new comer. "Had she known she would have stayed awake…"

He smiled tenderly before brushing his smiling daughter's face with a kiss.

"I know, I know" said he. "But even with her fine mind and precocity she's still a nine years old girl and it's better for her to have sleep aplenty."

"She never fusses about going to sleep," said Mary.

"Not if I agree to read her from her favorite bed time stories." He smiled. "I'm always amazed that she spends her day reading philosophers but at night she dozes off with fairy tales!"

"We all hide a little girl deep within and little girls prefer fairy tales" answered Mary.

Duroc looked at the young woman he had just found reading in his daughter's room. She was not like her sisters. Not at all but then she was exactly like them. There was kindness and compassion aplenty but not in equal proportions. Jane was probably the most compassionate and congenial Elizabeth the most active and straightforward…

He hesitated.

"Could we have a few minutes together, Miss Bennet? I know it's late but I do feel the necessity to speak with you alone, that is without Emilie. I'm not sure how she would react if we speak of certain matters while having her at our side."

Mary took her book and nodded.

"Of course, let's go to the yellow sitting room, we won't be disturbed at this time of the evening and there's always a few servants present to handle the guests wishes."

He bowed to let her pass and soon they were sitting face to face he with a glass of whiskey in his hand; she with a cup of tea. With milk and honey, as she preferred it.

He inhaled lengthily before taking his courage in both hands.

"Emilie wants us to marry" said he suddenly.

"That she does" agreed Mary before falling silent.

There was a lengthy silence but it was also a convivial silence with no pressure at all.

"You must know" said finally Mary, "that I like your daughter very much, general. And I'm very proud to be able to nurture such a fine and kind mind into a mature human being. And whatever happens I'd be happy to go on helping her to overcome what she feels as differences between her and other girls her age. I had the same and thanks to Jane and Lizzie I have always known that even if different I wasn't at the side."

Duroc nodded and smiled at her.

"I thank you, Miss Bennet and your precision is a great help for what I'm going to say."

He sighed.

"I would like to make my little girl the happiest child in the world. And I know that having you as her mother would be a milestone to just get that result. But I won't buy my daughter's happiness with your grief."

He stopped to seep at his glass.

"I loved my first wife like the young enamored fool I was. I placed her on a pedestal and I was for a long time sure that I killed her by making her pregnant…" He stopped Mary with a very commanding gesture. "No don't try to assuage my guilt, it will never disappear! I know it's moronic but it has become a part of what I am and it makes me more human and thus abler to understand the others…" he smiled. "Which is not my strong side, you'll soon be witness to!"

He went on.

"Happily for Emilie I was on campaign in Italy for her first year and when I finally could hold her in my arms she was so beautiful I could only transpose the love I had for her mother on her. Had I been there when her mother died I would probably have hated her for killing my sweetheart. So she became said sweetheart and what little love I had left in me I put on my little angel."

Mary smiled because she had guessed exactly how he had reacted at his wife's death.

"There's no shortage in love, general. Even if you love madly your daughter it won't imply that you'll be unable to love a wife and other children. Would you have loved your wife less because you became a father? I don't think so, so I'm not afraid you'd be unable to love a wife –whoever she will be– because you are in adulation before your daughter." She looked at him and her eyes were full of compassion and understanding. "I'm not interested in marrying you just to be with your daughter. That I'm sure we can handle without a marriage. I would accept a marriage proposal if the man making it could accept me as I am… I know I'm like none of my sisters and in every list I'll be last…"

Duroc intervened immediately.

"That's not true. For Emilie who knows all of your sisters, you're at the top with no doubt."

"And for you, general where am I?"

He made a face.

"That's a very direct question but I will answer it with as much truthfulness as possible. If I consider only the Bennet sisters still available –which is a cowardly approach I confess–you're at the top of my list. And not only because you are Emilie's favorite human being. My first wife was like you much brighter than me and so much more educated that I never tried to compete with her. But I never was bitter because of the gap between us. I just felt more complete thanks to her. She complemented me. And I believe you could do the same. But then there's this ugly doubt which pushes me to compare you with what I'm idealizing in my mind. And I'm not sure even you with your qualities could overcome that handicap. And it would be unfair to subject you to this risk."

Mary shook her head.

"I'm ready to take a lot of risks to be a loved wife and a proud mother. But those risks must be shared between all involved. I know Emilie already loves me and I love her too. So our marriage wouldn't be loveless at all. But will it be enough? I don't know!"

"Neither do I" said Duroc. "But I'd like to have this same conversation with Emilie present. And after that we will, perhaps, be able to make a decision."

Mary nodded while providing him with her most flashing smile.

"It would be better indeed but I already know what I would answer if you ask…"

He sighed.

"So the only uncertainty is mine! Am I courageous enough to ask?"

"If there's one thing we all know you don't lack it is courage, so I have no doubt that if you don't ask it won't be for a cowardly reason."

He bowed to the compliment and his smile became mysterious.

"How is your French Miss Bennet?"

"Every day better, general, Emilie, since she has decided that I would be your wife, drills me quite efficiently in your language. Soon even the last trace of English accent should be erased under her relentless efforts."

He nodded and his smile blossomed.

"Well than I will need to ask if you'd accept…" he stopped and his eyes were sparkling, "to accompany my daughter and I to Paris when, following the proconsul we will go report about our actions in England and Ireland. Military and nonmilitary actions will be reported to the First Consul who has been quite patient with us till now."

"I'll have to ask papa, but save his veto, I would be very pleased to be with your daughter and you!"

Duroc stood, bowed and asked her if could withdraw.

"We'll have a few days before our departure, Miss Bennet. I do believe the d'Arcys will need those days to be ready."

"I thought so much" answered Mary, "thank you general."

"Good night."


	33. Chapter 33: Travel plans

**Chapter thirty three: Cardiff travel plans**

* * *

**Cardiff, Friday the 12****th**** October **

* * *

"We sail on Monday" explained Jane to her sister the next morning while their husbands were conferring with the Welsh Cabinet.

"And you'll stay in France?"

There was a little tremor in Elizabeth's voice.

"He wasn't very loquacious on that matter. It depends probably on political factors. Geoffrey believes that the Czar will be present, if that is the case we won't be able to leave before the end of that State Visit." She tried a little smile. "It shouldn't last longer than a month in Paris… With the round trip it could be that I'm not back before the beginning of December."

"But you won't stay in France?" asked Lizzy. "If I remember well your husband has quite a few estates there. You could spend years visiting each and every one of them!"

"He will show me Arques when on the return trip. On the trip to Paris we won't make any lengthy stop. Geoffrey is in a hurry to reach Paris and to speak with Napoleon. He wasn't very talkative about the reason that is so but I feel it is very significant." She stopped speaking aloud. "For England, I mean… I have no precise data but his eyes were sparkling when I asked him and he had this satisfied smile he wears each time he knows that what he's doing will please me. I have no idea what he is preparing but I feel it will be of great significance."

Lizzie shook her head.

She had, of course, the greatest confidence in her sister's opinion but what could her husband really offer to England? She doubted very much that France would ever willingly accept to give England up.

A greater autonomy? Would it be enough to pacify the land?

"I'll ask Fitzwilliam this afternoon. He has saved an hour for me on his agenda to present to me what they spoke about."

"Geoffrey didn't answer any of my questions about what he was preparing for England. I doubt very much that he will speak about it with your husband or the members of his cabinet. I suppose he wants to let Napoleon announce it. As I see the First Consul it wouldn't be a good idea to disclose anything before he does acknowledge Geoffrey's plan and make it his own."

"I'd like to know that man" said Lizzie. "We spoke of him for so long that we all believe we know him. I'd like to see how our representations match the truth…"

Jane immediately jumped at the occasion.

"Come with us… You'll never have a better occasion to meet him and his wife."

Lizzie shook her head.

"I would love to but I can't. Fitzwilliam is caught in a very difficult negotiation process where his real status and power will be decided. It would be the worst moment to let him alone."

Jane sighed.

"I would have loved to have you with us…" and there was much sorrow in her voice.

Elisabeth hugged her sister and they both found a renewed strength in their embrace.

"I'll see what can be done" whispered Lizzie. "But I'm afraid there won't be much of a choice for me. As you know the times are challenging for Fitzwilliam. And he needs me at his side."

"I know, I know and I'm conscious that I'm being selfish but the news came so suddenly. I was hoping that we could be together for a little more time…"

Lizzie laughed.

"Two weeks ago we were parting for at least a year and now you are shattered because of five little weeks?"

Jane shrugged lamely.

"I know I'm foolish but when we came back I was so happy to have again the joy to share my life with the only human being whom I know completely understands me that all my former resolution just vanished."

"You have Geoffrey…"

"Of course, but It's not the same, Lizzie. I love him madly and I could no longer envision a life without him but as unbelievable as it seems when we are together I'm the one who provides the strength he needs to go on healing. And it is sometimes very taxing but a minute with you sharing gossip –or just smiles–restores me to my former well-being."

Lizzie strengthened her embrace.

Amazingly it was the same for her. Not that she needed to work to heal her husband. What he needed from her was her unshaken confidence. It was enough for him to see his wife's trust to give him the strength to face any oncoming effort. But often it was as if she had traded with him. He felt stronger but as soon as he was gone she felt weaker. And it could take time to restore her to her former shape. But not when the sisters were together. It needed but a few minutes idle chat with Jane and it was as if she was again the giggling teenager of long ago. With no more anxiety and fear for the future. Soon she was just carefree and confident Lizzie Bennet, happy to be alive and never having any doubt or fear about what could happen.

They had found their perfect mates but those husbands' duties were tearing them apart and she wasn't sure that they would have the strength to go on without being able to see each other regularly.

She could go with Jane to Paris, she was quite sure Fitzwilliam would grant her everything she asked for but he would be unsure and anxious the whole time she would be away. As would she…

She sighed.

"I fear we can't have it all" said she finally. "Now that Fitzwilliam is King here it will be very difficult to part with him even for short periods. And Geoffrey will soon be called to his duties somewhere in France. We'll have to put up with what we can organize to be together. I hope Kings and Proconsuls will have the liberty to schedule their life to give their wives the time they need together…"

"So do I" sniffed Jane. "Because I'm quite sure it won't become any easier in the future…"

Lizzie could only nod.

* * *

"We go to Paris with Geoffrey…"

Fitzwilliam's word shook them out of their gloomy thoughts.

"How so?" asked Lizzie unable to hide her happiness. But Fitzwilliam, lost in his own thoughts didn't seem to notice.

"He convinced the cabinet that I needed to meet Napoleon as soon as possible. That with the Czar probably present Napoleon would be forced to include me in all the official gatherings and ceremonies and that it would settle, once and for all, all doubts about my being their equal if not in strength but in status…" He looked at his wife and his sister in law. "The Cabinet loved the idea…"

He shook his head and looked at his wife with surprise and disbelief in his eyes.

"Remind me never to haggle with my brother in law or we'll end broke and in the hedgerows."

Lizzie kissed him and soon they were in each other's arms.

She looked at her sister over Fitzwilliam's shoulder and after a last shared smile she saw her quit the sitting room.

She had no doubt that all of Geoffrey's arguments, if probably true in the political sense, were only based on his resolve to give his wife the longest possible time with her sister.

_Yes, indeed, we've found our perfect mates_…

* * *

"Well, Mrs. Bennet what do we do?"

"What do you want, Mr. Bennet? I must say that I'm of two minds."

Her husband nodded.

"So am I" answered he. "I'm dreaming of being back in my Library in Longbourn, doing nothing but basking in the certainty that the Bennets are so much better off than three months ago…"

He snickered.

"I miss Hill, I miss the neighbors, I miss the boring and egotistical life I lived…"

Mrs. Bennet winked at him.

"And then there's Paris and Napoleon."

He nodded.

"Indeed there's Paris and Napoleon. The man probably more than the City. We would probably be able to approach the Ogre and he would perhaps even speak to us…"

Mrs. Bennet made a face.

"Mary is going, isn't she?"

Mr. Bennet nodded.

"The general asked her yesterday and I gave her my approval."

"I'm sure Lydia will be eager to see Paris and the French court…"

"There is no Court, dear, France is a Republic!"

Mrs. Bennet could only snigger.

"In name only, in name only, and you know it as well as I… In fact Napoleon is as much a King with a Court than Fitzwilliam even if it is on a larger scale."

"A much larger scale, France with all her département is perhaps thirty times larger than Wales…"

He looked his wife in the eyes.

"So what do we do?"

Mrs. Bennet thought about her dilemma for a few seconds.

"If it agrees with you, we go to Paris. So we will be able to look at four of our daughters…"

"Two of them are no longer ours, dear…"

Mrs. Bennet pushed that argument away with an imperative gesture.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Bennet. Even married they will always be our daughters and it is our duty to look at what happens to them. And even if our influence on Jane and Lizzie is no longer as it once was, if it ever was what we believed it was, we still have Mary and Lydia to deal with."

She stopped talking for a few seconds and Mr. Bennet could literally see her mind working.

"What do you think of Mary's prospects?"

"Are there prospects? I know of none. She hadn't asked and the general never even approached me and if there is one thing I'm sure of it's that had he views on Mary he would have approached me."

"Of course there are prospects, dear. Mary likes him…"

"Is it enough?" asked Mr. Bennet. "With Jane and Lizzie's examples in view will it be enough?"

"Mary's not like our eldest daughters, dear. She's more composed than any other woman I've encountered. She doesn't show her feelings easily if ever at all. And the fact that she shows her liking for the general is a great feat for such as her."

"He doesn't seem very eager to do something in that direction."

Mrs. Bennet could only smile at her husband's ineptitude.

"He's not yet ready, dear. He likes Mary but the memory of his last lost wife hampers his feelings. They will have to find a way to turn around his fears…"

Mr. Bennet shook his head and snorted.

"He's a soldier, he doubt he fears anything…"

"He's a man; of course he fears a lot of things. In particular he fears to be hurt as he was after his wife's death. It almost destroyed him and he knows it. So he will never take the risk again if he isn't pulled in it!"

She sighed.

"But that's Mary and Emilie's job. We can't be of help there… They'll have to work around his reserve to convince him to try living again."

Mr. Bennet accepted his wife's judgment. He was discovering that once out of her fears for her future she was quite a sensible woman.

"And Lydia? Will it be wise to take her to Paris?"

Mrs. Bennet made a worried face.

"Well, Lydia is another matter" said she finally. "She's becoming a very reasonable young woman. And knowing what she went through theses last weeks; I'm afraid she's becoming too reasonable…"

"Lydia? Too reasonable? You're joking, I suppose?"

Mrs. Bennet shook her head.

"Not at all, Mr. Bennet. You must take everything in perspective to understand what our youngest daughter is going through right now…"

She looked at her husband.

"How would you qualify the relationship between Jane and Geoffrey?"

Mr. Bennet frowned but seeing that his wife was perfectly serious he accepted the challenge.

"Rich, full, challenging, complementing, exceptional?"

Mrs. Bennet nodded.

"Yes and you could find quite a few more to complete the description." She pointed toward the part of the Castle where Lizzie and her husband lived.

"And Lizzie's relationship with Fitzwilliam?"

Mr. Bennet could only shrug.

"I'd say as for Jane's, it is rich, full, complementing and perhaps a little more sedate than Jane's…"

"But as exceptional as Jane's, don't we agree?"

"Indeed…"

"So now look at Kitty's prospects…"

"A little more normal but quite satisfying…"

"Would you say that she and Bingley will end together?"

Once more Mr. Bennet nodded.

"I'd say yes! Kitty shows interest and restraint and is wise enough not to push the relationship… Yes that should go well."

"Now there's Mary who's finding a match while she never made a mystery about her reluctance to even envision marriage. And Duroc is everything Lydia would have loved to secure once upon a time three months ago…"

That finally got to Mr. Bennet's understanding.

"My God" said he finally. "Sometimes I'm thick as a wall…"

Mrs. Bennet bestowed him with a comprehensive smile.

"It happens but with enough patience we finally got you where we wanted you… Lydia doesn't show it but she's quite desperate right now. She's fallen into rationality and is convinced that four miracles in the same family are more than enough for the two next centuries."

"Which leaves her only with regrets and the prospect of an unhappy marriage…"

"In her mind that's exactly what she's building and we need to get her out of that mood as soon as possible."

"Paris and Napoleon should do the trick, do we agree?"

Mrs. Bennet nodded.

"We do agree!"

"Well" sighed Mr. Bennet. "Seems to me we'll meet Napoleon after all. Happy us!"

* * *

"Did you ask her?"

The question came out of the blue in the middle of a hundred other questions about Ireland, the army, the campaign or the Battle at Belfast.

"No I didn't" answered Duroc to his daughter's question. "We spoke and we came to an agreement that we both wanted to be sure of both our commitment. We need more time!"

Emile sighed.

She knew that it was her father who needed more time. Not Mary. Mary knew quite well what she would answer if that question should arose.

She didn't quite understand why her father hesitated and needed more time but since Mary was satisfied with his answer and not inclined to go away out of deception it would be satisfying for her too.

For the time being!

Because she felt that the two persons she loved more in the world could, when married, bring her even more happiness than they gave her already.

Not to speak about a little brother.

Little brother who would be as dashing as her papa and as smart as his mama. The next Napoleon to be sure!

* * *

"Could I ask you a few questions?"

Maureen turned on her heels and looked at young Lydia.

Since her ward was currently eating with the Boss she was free to roam that part of the Castle. Which she did in order to know every probable hiding place and hidden door.

"Sure, why not? Let's go back to the ladies' sitting room, it's right now empty. We will be able to speak without being overheard."

"There's nothing secret in what I want to know, we can be overheard…"

Maureen looked Lydia in the eyes and smiled.

"You just don't know it now, but you'll prefer not to be overheard."

* * *

"But why…"

"I was lonely and not very wise…" answered Maureen. "It's difficult to be wise when you've just been dumped by the man you love…"

"Why did he?"

"My fault" sighed Maureen. "I was so sure that he preferred independent and rash women that I chose the bad register to please him. I didn't understand that what he was looking for was a woman who needed his protection. Or, if I use the right words, a woman who gave him to understand that without him she was feeling uncompleted. Your sister did that to him. When he first saw her she was in danger and she clearly needed help. She was a beautiful damsel in distress but she wasn't helpless! She didn't whimper or cry. She knew she couldn't win against these ruffians but she stood her ground. And standing her ground she showed him that she wouldn't go down without a fight."

She smiled at the memory.

"He confessed it to me when he asked me to be her bodyguard. He said that even if he had met more beautiful women –and I'm quite sure he didn't–it wasn't her beauty that tied him but her willingness to look the danger in the eye. To be able to make the difficult but necessary choices to survive or help others to survive. And her perfect Hoondishoona stance…"

"Hoodishoona what?"

Maureen made an apologetic gesture.

"It is a Chinese sword fighter stance. A stance only experienced masters are willing to use. A stance which has a very specific meaning in Chinese Sword fighting."

"What meaning?" asked Lydia.

"It says: 'I'll perhaps die today but I'll die doing my duty and I'm laughing at your ugly little frog face'…"

"Which is probably a very potent insult…"

Maureen smiled.

"The most potent of all, it speaks of impotence and inability to even go into active intercourse… No Chinese man will stand that sort of insult without reacting. If he doesn't he is socially dead. So in a Chinese culture no man would have attacked the other members of Jane's party before having washed that insult in blood."

Lydia nodded and made an understanding hand gesture.

"I see, she channeled their hostility toward her…"

"Or they would have if they had been Chinese. But being normal English ruffians no one grasped the meaning of her stance."

Lydia shook her head.

"Luckily there was d'Arcy… Jane never spoke of what happened in that wood but I got my sister and Charlotte to tell me everything. I was impressed by what they told me about his sword mastery."

"He is a master in his own right, Miss Lydia. But what is really important is that he had two very fine pistols with which he could have killed the most dangerous with a single bullet through the head. Seeing their leader's head explode would have been enough to send all the others in a headless flight that's for sure! But he didn't use his pistols. And he didn't because there was an appeal in Jane's stance that demanded a sword master's answer. He really believes that he did it to brag and show off. I know he did it to show that other sword master hidden inside Jane that he was worthy of her… That encounter was an event on a lot of levels!"

A tear escaped Maureen's eye and quickly rolled down her cheek.

Lydia leant toward Maureen and took her vis-à-vis' hand.

"I'm sorry for your loss, but be assured that had Jane known that he wasn't free she would never have accepted his courting."

Maureen looked at her rather surprised.

"He was free and there is no loss, Miss Lydia."

"But you still love him, don't you?"

"Indeed, I do and I will probably love him till the end of my life."

"But he is Jane's…" stammered Lydia. "I can't believe he is cheating on her with you."

"Of course he isn't" protested Maureen with an angry frown. "He swore to be faithful and he's the most trustworthy man I know. He will never cheat on her! Not with me and not with any other…"

"But how…"

Maureen just answered with a smile. A very joyous and satisfied smile.

"Ask her, it's not for me to tell!"


	34. Preparations

**Chapter thirty four: Preparations**

* * *

**Cardiff and London, Saturday the 13****th**** October **

* * *

"That will be quite a migration but I won't go with you, Anne."

"You're sure, mama? It could be the last time you'll have the chance to meet Napoleon before he becomes too remote to be approached."

Lady Catherine shook her head.

"The committee goes on with his work and I love it too much to quit now. And certainly not just in the vague hope to be able to be greeted by the Ogre in person. I'm family of the Proconsul and member of the Welsh Constitutional Committee that's enough for an old frail woman like me." Her eyes sparkled in pleasure. "Not to speak of those Welsh Wyrms who have bestowed upon me the honor to be their Great Dragon! I feel as if I'll enjoy myself quite a lot these coming weeks."

She embraced her daughter before looking her in the eyes.

"But you must go. Half the European Aristocracy will be there. It will be the perfect occasion for you to create the contact network you thrive to build. I'm sure you'll be more at ease without that old Dragon at your side." She hid a mischievous smile. "And the way you love to work it is better for you not to be burdened by me…"

Anne smiled at her mother.

"You're no burden, mama. On the contrary you're the perfect diversion for a little grey mouse like me to be unnoticed. Who looks at the insignificant daughter when Catherine de Bourgh is taking the floor?"

Lady de Bourgh snorted.

"So that's what you use me for, o you unworthy daughter."

"I didn't force you to play a role, mother! You chose it all by yourself and I just adapted my way to it… If you look at it truthfully, I'm all your doing!"

Catherine de Bourgh wailed aloud but there were sparkles in her eyes.

"So now it is my fault! God protect us poor old frail women against too clever daughters!"

* * *

"You could join me later…" said Charles. "Paris and the Czar that's much more interesting than Bingley's quest for his family heirloom."

Kitty shook her head vehemently.

"Paris won't move and the Czar will, if he isn't an idiot, one day invite you to Saint Petersburg to bring civilization and progress and wealth to his country. So I'll be a bit late but in the end I'll miss nothing." She smiled at Charles. "And I'm very flattered that I'll be your guest while on that peculiar journey."

She lifted her left eyebrow.

"Because it could very well be misinterpreted. Why would you come to see your distant cousins with a girl in your wake if said girl wasn't of importance for you?"

He smiled back and kissed her hand.

"Perhaps because she _is_ of importance for me?"

Kitty acknowledged his words with a smile.

"Don't hurry things, Charles. I'm in no hurry to marry even if I'm very decided about who I would want to ask for my hand. Let's be very sure of our feelings. Who knows there's perhaps a beautiful Irish cousin awaiting you?"

Charles thanked her with another kiss on the fingers.

"I hope there isn't because I would drive her into despair…"

"We'll see, Mr. Bingley. We'll see!"

* * *

"I still don't understand how they could let you convince them" sighed Jane while lying at her husband's side with her head laying in the crook of his shoulder.

They were both still in bed even if the morning was quite advanced. But the night has been long and they were gone back to their apartment rather early in the morning. Maureen hadn't lasted very late in the morning and she had slipped out while both Geoffrey and Jane were still asleep.

"Easy, I gave them what they all wanted! Lizzie wanted to be with you and Fitzwilliam wanted to be with Lizzie. Coming with me to see Napoleon was the easiest and most diplomatic way to give them both what they wanted."

Jane shook her head.

"I don't speak of Lizzie and Fitzwilliam. I speak of the members of the Cabinet."

D'Arcy laughed.

"For them it was much easier, _mon amour._ Don't forget they are all politicians! They want to be in power and in 1801 in Europe to be in power it is necessary to be able to have been noticed and accepted as equals by the Masters of Europe. And the presence of the Czar in Paris gave them the ultimate proof that Paris was the place they wanted to be."

He kissed her on the top of her head.

"They are as curious as everybody else in Europe to meet the man whose ambition has shaped Europe and the Mediterranean sea."

She snorted jealously.

"They've met you whose ambition has shaped a different Britain. Why isn't it enough for them?"

He laughed aloud at his wife's little show of anger.

"Because I have been very discreet and very subtle_, madame mon épouse_. I never wanted to be seen as one of the front guys. My ambitions were abroad while Napoleon's ambitions were clearly in Europe. So I did what had to be done to get me the means but not the notoriety. Napoleon was willing to grant me what I needed at the condition that he could be the one in the limelight! And since I wanted to stay in the shadow as long as possible, what came out was in both our interests. So don't be surprised that it is Napoleon whose head is known throughout Europe and mine unknown everywhere."

He embraced her and she snuggled against him.

"If you look at it there are very few people who do know me. And It is exactly what I want. I want to be able to walk in any street without being recognized. That's also the reason I always wear that ridiculous red frock and those shining and ostentatious decorations. They blur the sight of those who look at me. When I take out the frock and the medals I'm able to disappear and the man standing before them has nothing to catch their eye or their memories."

He kissed her.

"You're the only living being I want to be able to remember me! For all the others I wish to be a shadow or a gust of wind. Felt but never really seen."

She opened her mouth to ask another question but he caught her lips with his and soon she had forgotten what she wanted to ask.

* * *

"Why Daniel Gibet?"

Pitney just blew out some air. From time to time his job as Mr. Darcy's protector was weighting very heavily on his shoulders.

"Because the initials are the same as yours, Georgie Boy and because Gibet is the French word for gallows and I found it absolutely hilarious."

George pouted but didn't comment. He had learned, the hard way, that Pitney Forks had no sense of humor at all.

And those pictures of him…

"They don't look like me" grumbled he while pointing at one of the wanted notice that the French had glued in every street of London.

"Of course they don't look like you, Georgie. We paid enough money to your old chaps to get a coherent but altered description from them! They described you exactly as you were seen at the theater. Nobody doubts anymore that those pictures –bad pictures if you ask- describe George Darcy. You should be thankful to our efforts. Without them we couldn't even walk in the streets without being ratted out to the gendarmerie."

George couldn't help but whine.

"But it's not me…"

"We'll correct the mistake once the French are out of the country. For now you're Daniel Gibet a merchant working for the French _Compagnie des Indes_ who looks for means to invest money in England."

George went on making a face. He really didn't like what was going on these few days.

He still had a few hours fun at night with the flags and the graffiti but it was becoming boring.

"We should stop playing soft and getting rough" said he once they were out of earshot of the passers-by. "You said that you would get me in the palace. We have to land a great feat. Killing Lebrun would mark the people."

Pitney made tremendous efforts not to snap at his 'boss'.

"If you hadn't tried to get into the palace to steal that trunk they would still have a token security. Now there are soldiers at every stair and before every inhabited apartment. And since they found the secret passage where we got in we no longer have an easy entry…"

"We could climb the façade…"

"I could just shoot you, it would be safer!"

George stopped and looked Pitney in the eyes.

"Why is it that you refuse all my ideas?"

"The robbery at the palace was your idea, remember? And it got us on the run for two days! Now we do cool safe and secure. You've been chosen because you are the one in d'Arcy's family who was available –and dishonest enough- for this scheme not because you are the brightest apple in the bunch! We need you as a figure head for after the departure of the French! And if you die all our investment would have been for nothing! So now you stop complaining Georgie and you play the role we want you to play! If you're smart enough to follow orders you'll end up the people's hero! You'll get all the women you want and more money that you'll ever be able to gamble away…"

All traces of humor fled from Pitney's face.

"But it is not too late to change the figure head. We have still enough time to find some relative of the Hannover and build him up to be London's most wanted! If that's what you wish…" He pointed in the general direction of the port. "Take a ship and disappear, you have papers and enough money to build you a new life. You're my guest…"

George lit his face with his best seducer's smile.

"Don't be stupid, Pitney. I'm too committed to quit now. I'd just want to scale our actions up. Flags and graffiti is a rather boring business."

Pitney shot daggers at George.

"We have already scaled up our actions, but we have real specialists to do these feats. You we need alive! So no we won't scale up _your_ actions. With you we do spectacular and safe, is it understood?"

George nodded and tied very much not to show his anger.

One day he would make that lout regret every word he said! Every one of them!

Pitney Forks answered him with a glance that cut out all his vague desires of vengeance.

And as usual he felt himself like a teenaged perch trying to threaten an adult shark.

* * *

"So you are sure it's him?"

Lebrun's question brought a smile on Belgram's face.

"Of course I'm sure. We made a very thorough inquiry about everything he confessed and we are sure he said the truth on everything…"

Lebrun shook his head.

"He knows he risks to be beheaded?"

Belgram nodded.

"Yes, but he is eaten up by remorse. And he feels manipulated. So he came out of his hole ready to pay for his stupidity. He has nightmares of what would have happened had he succeeded with killing d'Arcy."

Lebrun didn't smile.

He was there in the carriage and if not for d'Arcy's reaction speed he would be dead. He knew it was a petty feeling but he was not ready to forgive the man who had thrown the bomb into his lap!

"I'll agree not to sentence him to death but that son of a bitch won't walk out of my office free to go on throwing bombs on innocent people."

That got him a sarcastic smile from Belgram and after a few seconds he accepted to smile in return.

"Agreed: not so innocent people…" concurred Lebrun. "But he is a bloody Irish anarchist and he tried to blow me to heaven."

Belgram shrugged.

"My judges will condemn him and the Irish government will ask, as a demonstration of good will between our two countries, that we allow him to spend his time in an Irish Jail…"

Lebrun nodded.

"And, as a demonstration of good will between our two countries, we will accept and he will spend a few months in an Irish Jail before being liberated as a hero of the Irish independence."

Belgram made a face.

"For the last part I wouldn't bet a shilling. He could have killed the man whose real plan was to liberate Ireland. With his death all his plans would have gone down the gutter. I'm not sure the next Irish government will look at that would-be patriot with a lot of good will. I'd bet on ten years jail before coming out! In ten years he will no longer be a hero of the war but just an idiot coming out of jail…"

Lebrun tapped forcefully his desk with his hands.

"Let's forget that idiot and let's speak about what he confessed."

Belgram nodded. He agreed that was the real interesting part.

"He confessed everything and the part of his sleeping partner and sponsor if it is not totally satisfying –he never saw him- is all the same very interesting."

Lebrun looked at Belgram with greed in his eyes.

"And we can prove that slimy bastard was behind the bombing."

"He presented himself as Darcy and even if our killer never saw his face –the light was in his back- he convinced that Irish idiot that he really meant business. Everything the killer said is coherent with Fitzwilliam Darcy speaking to him."

That brought a grimace on Lebrun's face. He knew quite well that Fitzwilliam Darcy would never have sponsored a bombing.

"Don't fret about it, we have a thousand witnesses who are able to prove that Fitzwilliam Darcy was in Derbyshire at exactly the same time our killer was hired."

Lebrun's face didn't show any joy at the information.

"That doesn't give us the hint of a proof against Wickham…"

"Yes and no" said Belgram managing his suspense. "We know that George Wickham has a long past as an actor and con man. And guess who was his favorite character?"

"Fitzwilliam Darcy?"

Belgram nodded and his smile grew.

"We made a few inquiries in the surroundings of Oxford where George Wickham was studying to become a priest and we found at least thirteen women –for the most part now married women- who all swear that the father of their first child is none other than Fitzwilliam Darcy…"

Lebrun frowned.

"It could have been him, I've been young in my time and I'm not sure I didn't…" he hesitated.

"No, it wasn't him" answered Belgram. "Not once. It was him who paid for the children and who arranged the marriages but he wasn't the father. He was just mopping up his brother's mess…"

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely! Fitzwilliam Darcy was a model of seriousness and integrity. The most boring student you can imagine." He stopped Lebrun's next remark with a gesture. "I know what you're going to say: even a boring student has its needs! And so did Fitzwilliam Darcy. But he used a professional. He always went to the same courtesan and she remembers him with a lot more than pleasure. He financed her moving to London and" he became very insistent, "Fitzwilliam Darcy was—and I believe her- her only sponsor till his marriage…"

Lebrun nodded.

"Alright I see the picture. And he really paid for George's sidesteps?"

"Each time he got news about one. He's very conscious that if the ton could easily accept a rich man's predatory habits on common women it wouldn't have been the same if a scandal would have arisen… So he paid to smother the scandals of George's sex life!"

"The more I hear from that George the more I have that need to get him thrown in the Thames with a few hundred pounds fastened at his body."

Belgram smiled.

"He has that effect on people, monsieur le Consul. And I'm sure that if everybody who wants him dead put a shilling on this table it would crash under the weight…"

Lebrun raised his hands before him.

"Let's get back to my question: can we prove that George Darcy sponsored the bombing against me?"

Belgram nodded.

"I have enough hints and material clues to get him condemned in any court in any land. That man is a creepy scorpion whose greed is only shadowed by his pettiness. If I get my hand on him he's dead…"

Lebrun took a feather out of a drawer and signed the warrant Belgram had brought.

"Let's do it now and put a thousand pounds more on his head. Coming directly from my personal funds. That bastard had tried to kill me; I'll have his head on a pole!"

Belgram took the signed sheet of paper and bowed.

"The new reward notices will be on London's walls within twenty four hours! We will get that little slimy weasel!"

* * *

"Gentlemen an -women, I'm proud of you!"

His top coworkers all smiled at his praise and Edward Gardiner nodded at them.

"What we have achieved in a mere couple of weeks is astounding. Never would I have thought that it could be done so fast."

"We had the funds and a lot of workers were available" explained James Doolittle the boss executive deputy while broadly smiling, "and the management was outstanding…"

Edward Gardiner pointed a finger toward his deputy.

"Don't play that tune with me, James, you know I detest flattery."

"I would be flattery if it wasn't the truth, Edward. But it is the truth and we are very proud to be under the lead of the sole honest, unbiased and really human entrepreneur in Great Britain!"

He raised his glass.

"To the Company!"

"To the company" shouted all the men—and women- present.

"To his manager!" added Doolittle.

And all cheered the boss who blushed and tried to hide his tears under a grimace.

* * *

"That went well" said Mrs. Gardiner when, finally, they were arrived at home.

"They are good men and women, Adeline. I'm very lucky to have them working for me."

"You hired them so there's no luck involved just sheer professionalism and savoir-faire!"

"You're biased…"

"Of course I am but that doesn't mean that I don't say the truth!"

Edward Gardiner leaned toward his wife and kissed her.

"Well one of my most precious aid I didn't hire. If I remember well it was her who hired me…"

She giggled.

"You would have hesitated ten more years before asking. I had to do something before another saw the diamond that was lying around."

He smiled because she had taken measures just a few days before he would have asked her.

He was sure the last postponement had really been the last…

He took her hand and kissed it.

He tapped his tummy.

"Tomorrow we all do calisthenics at the company, one half hour in the morning and one half hour in the afternoon, Boss and management included." He smiled. "I could even get rid of that paunch!"

She laughed aloud.

"I see that d'Arcy's example has wormed itself into your brain." She snuggled against him. "But don't overdo yourself as much as I would love to have a brawny Edward Gardiner at my side I know that I don't want to have an injured husband lying around! You're unbearable when ill or unable to move!"

He laughed.

"Don't be too optimistic. The brawny Edward Gardiner will take a few years to develop at the rhythm I envision. I'll do my best but I'm not sure I'll ever be able to beat my underlings around as d'Arcy is able to do it…"

"He's a soldier and an athlete, Edward. You're a fine man and a philanthropist. You don't need to beat your underlings into submission. You've already convinced them that you're the best… It's enough to get them following you. You convinced me, all those years ago that you were the best husband stuff in all England! And that wasn't an easy feat!"

He took her hand and pulled her toward their apartment.

"Wife, you've convinced me, I need to exercise more… Would you accept to be my sparring partner?"

She followed while muffling giggles.

"You did that convincing part years ago, dear… Years ago…"


	35. Talks

**Chapter thirty five: Cardiff Talks**

* * *

**Cardiff, Sunday the 14****th**** October **

* * *

She felt a hand grasping her wrist.

The softness of the touch was enough for her to know who was awaken.

"Why slip away like a thief" whispered Jane. "Enjoy your nights to the brim. I won't grudge you about it…"

"I know, dear but we need to keep up the appearances. I wouldn't like it if because of me you'd be branded as perverts."

Jane eyes were laughing while shaking her head.

"Well it's all those French new perversions that are befuddling our poor females' minds. We are poor victims of that odious pervert who calls himself my husband… He smiles and we are hapless lambs…"

There was a grumble coming up between them.

"I should have bet that it would be my fault" complained d'Arcy.

Jane wished him good morning with a tender kiss on his lips.

"That's because we are humble mindless females fallen into the clutches of that horribly efficient French seducer. We could do nothing, just lay down and…"

He interrupted her with a much more powerful kiss.

"Don't add a word or I'll show you what happens when you lay down before a French pervert…"

Maureen smiled and went on getting up.

He was much more playful than of past. Much more tender too. It was another d'Arcy but she was sure it was a better one.

The last thing she saw was Jane's smile while she closed the door.

* * *

There was a surprise waiting for her in her room.

"You're here in my room" said Maureen with what looked very much like an angry frown.

"You're no longer sleeping here so I do believe that proposition is open to discussions" answered Lydia who had spent quite a few long hours waiting on Maureen.

"I could snap your little curious neck and plead the surprise. It was dark and…"

"Jane would be devastated" said Lydia with a smile. "We wouldn't want to upset my marvelously open-minded elder sister…"

This time Maureen's eyes became really dark and her frown sent Lydia into a backing movement.

"Don't you ever hint a word about…" hissed Maureen.

"She's family and she's the only sister who never stood judgment upon me" babbled Lydia in high speed hysterical talk. "Whatever I'd do I knew she would stand at my side and defend me till the end. I used her shamelessly I confess but I also never stopped loving her for being what she was. You can't believe that I'd ever do anything which could hurt her or those she loves."

Maureen relaxed visibly but her eyes didn't find their inner smile.

"You'd only do it once" whispered Maureen in a voice that let Lydia not the least doubt about what would happen should she make that mistake.

But being Lydia, she was made of a sterner stuff than most other young girls. Soon she was again the relaxed curious teenager who was so very curious about her elder sister new relationship.

"It won't happen at all, I swear! But that doesn't mean that when alone with her and you I won't hint at her / your new bonding. And you know it would embarrass her to no end…"

"And the next second you'll get the most deserved spank in all humanity's history" said Maureen with a predatory smile of her own.

"It could be worth the price" said Lydia. "But we could strike a deal and nothing would ever slip past my lips…"

Maureen who knew quite well what Lydia really wanted let herself relax.

Jane's sister had visibly gotten in heritage all the deviousness her elder sisters had refused.

But deviousness in a teenage girl she could handle she had no doubt.

"What do you want to know…"

"Everything about men…" whispered Lydia for once very discreet. "Everything…"

Maureen nodded.

"You'll get everything I know, dear. But be very sure that you'll regret it till the end of your life."

Maureen looked at the young girl facing her and Lydia could see concern in her eyes.

"Illusions are a wonderful thing you begin to regret only the day you lose them. This could be the day you'll lose what it is that makes up your innocence. I'll give you a last chance to see your youth come to fruition. Come back in two hours and I'll give you what you want. But I give you the only important advice of the day right now: don't come back and don't ask again!"

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea," asked Elizabeth. "We have so many problems to solve. Is a State visit really important at this stage of you reign?"

"Our brother did discreetly convey to me that it would be a _bad_ idea not to be there. He wasn't very exhaustive in front of the cabinet members but he was quite adamant in his hidden messages. So yes I fear it is a good idea."

Elizabeth sighed before shrugging.

"Well I won't begrudge God's gifts when they are in conformity with my prayers but it does worry me. I really don't know what Geoffrey is planning. But Jane is certain that it is meant as a gift to her. A gift she'll cherish and love."

She made a face.

"You know how Jane can be when she has those funny feelings…"

"No" answered Fitzwilliam. "But I know how my wife is when she has _her_ funny feelings." His eyes sparkled. "Like night walks under stormy weather…"

"It was a prophetic dream… Not a funny feeling."

He bowed before her.

"Oh, so I have now my own prophetess at home," said he while smiling. "And what is said prophetess prophesizing right now?"

"That she will scratch your satisfied smugly little smile from you face if you go on laughing at her!"

He jumped back and hid behind an armchair.

"Oh, God I'm scared, please protect me from the wrath of the Mighty Seer of Carfiff…"

He ducked just in time to dodge a pillow.

"Stop it immediately, Fitzwilliam or you'll regret it immensely!"

His laughing eyes lurked from behind his armchair.

"You can't do me anything! I'm the King, you remember? Even looking at me like that could be considered as a crime of lese-majesty. And I don't speak about that horrible act of throwing a pillow at Him… Your fate is sealed, _madame_."

"Sealed for sealed, I no longer have a choice, do I? I'll have to assault you…"

He clearly challenged her to do it.

She did.

He counter-attacked and soon had the initiative.

None lost.

* * *

"Mary?"

"Yes, dear" said Mary while continuing to play the piano forte. Her style was becoming much better since she no longer feared to play badly. Now she just enjoyed letting her fingers caressing the keys of the ivories. And they did very well without her help at all.

"You spoke with Papa…"

"About the journey to Paris yes, we spoke."

She could feel that Emilie was wrangling with how to ask _the_ question. She stopped playing and invited her to come to sit in her lap.

Emilie was immediately there.

Mary placed her in order to be able to look in each other's eyes.

"Look, dear, your Papa and I we know perfectly well that you wish us to be wedded. I personally wouldn't be reluctant to answer to your Papa should he ask but we must be patient, you and me. He is not yet sure of what he wants."

"But…"

She stopped the little girl with a finger on her lips.

"He loved your Mama very very much and the day she died he was devastated. It did hurt him so mightily that he believed never ever to be able to love again. Then he was presented with his little daughter which he considered till he saw her as the reason why his wife died. And looking in her eyes he understood that love wasn't dead at all and that he had found it again. And he was scared even more. He knew how he would feel should he ever lose you and he refused with all possible might to let that happen again."

She kissed Emilie on the brow.

"And he did quite well, didn't he?"

Emilie nodded with shining eyes.

"Now you ask him to marry again. And he is confronted with a terrible choice."

"Marry or not marry?"

Mary shook her head.

"No dear, that's not his choice at all. You want him to marry, he will marry have no doubt about it."

Emilie frowned.

"But then why doesn't he marry you? I want him to marry _you_!"

That bestow her another kiss.

"You're a sweetheart, dear but it is not so simple! We haven't yet spoken about your father's choice, remember?"

Emilie nodded with all the seriousness a nine year old girl was able to master.

"And his choice is between risking to be hurt or not risking to be hurt."

Mary smiled at the little girl.

"You remember why he was hurting so greatly?"

"Because mama died…"

"Indeed, but a lot of his soldiers die each time he fights a new battle. Do you thing he hurts as much as when your mama died?"

"No, I'm sure he hurts but he hurts more with mama because he loved her."

Mary smiled and nodded. Emilie was really a sweetheart but she took great care not to let her smile grow she was beginning to look at things in a different way. Reason was still very high in her pantheon but slowly, discreetly Mary had inhaled other values in her little smart mind.

"That was exactly why it was so painful. So what could he do to be sure not to be feeling pain should the worst happen?"

Emilie frowned for just a second before speaking in a very hushed voice.

"Marry someone he doesn't love…"

"Exactly and what do you conclude with his not asking me,"

This time Emilie face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Because he loves you…"

Mary stopped her enthusiasm with a mitigating gesture.

"Don't take mental shortcuts Emilie! Remember what I taught you!"

Emilie nodded and gave herself a few seconds to remember the last sentences.

"He doesn't not love you!" said Emilie with a smile.

"That's the correct sentence, Emilie. I'm very proud of you…"

Emilie smiled her satisfaction but soon her smile disappeared.

"What can we do, Mary?"

"We wait and let the time do his work, dear. Your Papa is a great man and a mighty general but he is also a human being who's full of doubts and fears when it comes to his personal life. One day he'll make his decision and that decision will take into account what's best for you, I have no doubt at all!"

That brought the beaming smile back.

"Yes let's wait…"

* * *

Géraud Duroc smiled while slowly withdrawing from behind the curtain where he, from time to time, came to look at his daughter and… Miss Bennet.

To listen to Miss Bennet's playing too.

He had heard her in Rosings and there was a world between the two performers.

Rosing's had been mechanical and hashed. Cardiff's was fluid and flowing.

And he quite admired the way Mary Bennet was honing his daughter's mind without ever being harsh or austere.

There was always love and understanding in her words.

And he liked it very much.

Once in Paris he would ask a few friends. He would even ask Napoleon who had always been of good counsel when not asked about money and he would make his decision.

But her last sentence was ringing a bell in his mind.

He knew as well as Mary that he would, finally, select what could bring that happy smile back on his daughter's face.

* * *

"Thanks to be here, cousin, I needed to speak to you…"

Anne smiled and took the seat facing d'Arcy's work place.

"I'm honored to be admitted in your study" answered Anne while smiling.

"You're welcome and it isn't politeness that speaks" said d'Arcy while she sat in the comfortable chair. "I need your advice or to be more precise I need your insight."

"About England?"

D'Arcy nodded.

"About England and the English Gentry who'd for the most part came here to live in waiting."

Anne nodded and looked her cousin in the eyes.

How could he know that she had already weaved a rather solid relationship with quite a few members of the English Gentry diaspora?

He smiled at her unasked question.

"Most of them are under surveillance partly by my men and partly by Welsh security and I know how to get the Welsh reports."

Anne closed her eyes and gave herself a few seconds to structure her thoughts.

"They are unhappy about the situation and a few of them do envision a comeback in the very near future" she hesitated a few seconds. "I can't be sure but an armed comeback isn't excluded…"

"Soon?"

"Not before next spring. They are not yet ready. They've lost quite a lot of their backers and funds are rare and difficult to obtain. I'll probably accept to finance some of them."

"Good idea" answered d'Arcy. "Please do associate your mother to those fundraisings. I need her to be in those men's good grace. How much do they need?"

Anne looked up rather astonished.

"You propose to finance them? They are contemplating open guerilla warfare."

"Of course they do, what else could they do? Looking at the odds, they won't be able to pay mercenaries and they won't convince England's people to rise up in masses. So what they'll try is arming a few malcontents and sending them against my troops. In the hope that my men will avenge their fallen comrades by butchering a few innocent peasants."

Anne was looking at him with an ugly suspicion.

He shook his head.

"I would have financed them in order to be able to follow their progress and, when they would have been ready, to hack them down! But that is no longer the case. I want Lady Catherine to fund them with five thousand pounds…"

He opened a drawer and put a bag, a heavy bag, on the table. "Here's the sum in Gold. Give them to the man you trust most."

Anne shook her head.

"I can't…"

"Don't be an idiot, you would have financed them but it would have cost you quite a big chunk of your allotment. So you finance them without cutting your own possibilities."

"I won't be accomplice to their slaughter!"

D'Arcy frowned.

"They are idiots and perjurers, they don't deserve your pity, but in order to calm your qualms I can promise you that there will be no slaughter. Not this year and not next. And after that everything will be different anyway. So take that money and make my aunt a trusted backer of the Gentry Revolutionnary Front. It's important for the future. It will give them a leverage to assuage my wrath!"

Anne looked at d'Arcy.

"They'll use it to buy weapons and ammunitions…"

"Of course they will and my men and they have already negotiated the price" said d'Arcy. "I'll even win a monetary bonus out of those transactions so don't be shy and take that bag."

Anne hesitated.

"I have you word that…"

"I swear that I won't launch a witch hunt against the Welsh English Gentlemen perjurers. Not this year and not next year. If they don't try to kill me or my wife they'll survive."

His eyes became very cold.

"For me an oath is important! I will not look in the other direction while a man of quality commits perjury. They'll pay the price for their disloyalty but I swear I won't have them killed or imprisoned."

Anne took the bag.

"You're not a gentleman" said she while taking the money.

"You're right" agreed d'Arcy. "I am a man who keeps his word."


	36. Journey's launch

**Chapter thirty six: Journey's launch**

* * *

**Dame de Coeur, Monday the 15****th**** October **

* * *

"The ship will be a little crowded but we'll be much sooner in Rouen than with any other ship," said d'Arcy while showing his ship to Fitzwilliam.

"She is a nice ship" admitted Fitzwilliam, "that must be said…"

"She's the fastest ship ever built" added d'Arcy with a proud smile. "With the right travel conditions we could be in France in two days and land around Wednesday in Rouen!"

"Why such a hurry?" asked Fitzwilliam. "I would have thought that a day more wouldn't change anything."

"Probably not" agreed d'Arcy. "But I'm impatient as always when the decision isn't mine to make. When I'm at the helm I have those inner signals which give me hints about the way everything is enfolding. When it is somebody else I crave to have it done as soon as possible."

Fitzwilliam nodded and looked at the pier where his cousin the general was studying the 'Dame de Coeur' with great attention.

"Richard is not very happy to have to stay in Cardiff" said finally Darcy. "Why is he to remain here?"

"I wouldn't want him ending his career in a French prison camp" answered d'Arcy. "Since he hasn't joined the Welsh army he's still an enemy general and once on French soil he would have fallen into the clutches of a dear fiend of mine who would be so happy to get leverage on me… So, no, he stays here and he fumes in frustration. It is much better so!"

"We spoke and he is now decided to remain in the service of the British Crown. He just awaits his new marching orders…"

"Which shouldn't come very soon… I'm quite sure that those generals who aren't in custody of my armies are running toward America. Nobody will stop before a long time to put some order in an army that, in my opinion, no longer exists. So he's on vacation and he's much safer here in Cardiff than anywhere else…"

"I don't ag…" began Darcy when he saw the carriage of the rest of the party arriving on the pier.

"They are coming…" said he with a smile.

D'Arcy turned around and soon was smiling too.

"Indeed here they are, we will be able to respect our departure time."

He turned once more and made a sign.

Immediately his men lined up to help the coming ladies.

"Let's go greet them, Fitzwilliam. I'm always happy to welcome guests aboard."

* * *

"We all speak a lot of France but what do we really know about that country" said Lydia while sitting on an unfolded bed chair d'Arcy's men had opened on the forward bridge of the ship.

All the ladies –and Emilie who did make great efforts to be inconspicuous- sat in the morning sun and talked about their goal, the French Republic.

As often it was either Anne or Mary who answered.

From time to time it was Jane when she had some insight to share about a ruler of a people she had spoken of with her husband.

"With their Eastern départements" said Mary, "they cover the largest part of real estate of whole Europe, Russia not included. But European France is a very developed and populous country while Russia is sparsely populated and rather backward. Most Russians are serfs and there are very few factories. If you look outside of Saint Petersburg there are no factories at all."

"Sparsely populated is still very populated if one looks only at the numbers," précised Anne. "France alone has more people than the whole of Russia and if you add Egypt and Syria the French Republic counts more than 45 million people. The whole of the British islands has a population of under 20 million and that's if you include Scotland, Wales and Ireland. So if you include England's population into the fray, France weights more than 55 million people… To compare to the thirty million people the Czar boasts with."

"Which should, for France, be the third of Europe's population" added Mary. "Napoleon has the manpower to convince even Russia… In my opinion no power is able to resist France's armies at this time…"

"China?" asked Emilie who had been able to speak at two occasions with d'Arcy about where he spent his youth and she had been very impressed with what he told her.

"You're right he would probably have problems against China" nodded Anne. "Geoffrey says that the last Imperial census counted more than 300 million subjects for the Son of Heaven. And he has very numerous armies."

"But European armies are probably more modern and better organized" said Emilie.

"Indeed but numbers have their own weight in a battle" said Anne accepting Emilie with an appreciative smile. "At four to one, odds against even a more modern army are not very good."

"How can Napoleon be stopped?" asked Mrs. Bennet who was quite astonished by the topics of conversation that little congregation of females was choosing.

"His own ambition could do the trick" answered Jane. "Geoffrey says that Napoleon's only weakness is that he is unable to see his limits. When on a winning streak he won't stop to ponder what's happening. He'd just go on taking more and more." She frowned. "And by taking he means land, riches and advantages."

"But using your advantage and the surprise it brings should be a good idea in a running military campaign, should it not?" asked Lydia.

"Yes" agreed Anne, "you're right but at a certain point you must make a choice. Stop and ponder the situation to carefully choose your next move or just go on using the momentum of victory. If you just go on and if your enemy has a clear mind and is able to resist panic you can be pulled into a situation where you have no longer the initiative. That's what happened to Alexander in India. He was victorious and used his advantage till the end but he oversaw that his men had lost their motivation… They did no longer know why they were fighting. He was still the best strategist and he had still the best organized armies but those armies had lost the will to fight for him. And so he lost their support and, probably, his life. Because without the support of his soldiers he could be overthrown by his ambitious lieutenants which, in my opinion, they did by poisoning him."

"But Napoleon seems to know himself enough to be able to stop and ponder," said Lizzie intervening for the first time. "He did it in Anatolia. He was victorious and the Ottomans were in a rout. He could have chosen to force his luck and go on till Istanbul… He didn't."

"Not of his own choice" outlined Jane. "He had to stop because the Directory, hearing of his successes, called him back out of sheer jealousy. He had no choice since his government threatened to cut his supply lines if he didn't come back to Paris. He was so angered by their threat that he immediately went home letting d'Arcy there to consolidate their new possessions. And that was the best thing that could have happened…"

"You're not unbiased in that matter…" smiled Lizzie.

"No I'm not" agreed Jane. "But you can't deny that Geoffrey has a knack to gain people over! He did it in London but in Damascus and Cairo he worked for over a year and now those two Muslim countries are eager followers of the French. Napoleon would have bled them to death before being ousted by an uprising…"

"And if I remember well the Directory did make a huge mistake by calling Napoleon back" said Emilie.

"Indeed" snickered Anne. "Two months after his comeback he overthrew their regime and jailed most of them…"

"They tried to have him arrested," précised Jane. She had spoken quite a lot about Napoleon with her husband and her knowledge was quite exhaustive. "They were afraid of his popularity and tried to have him 'disappeared'. But Fouché, who's the most traitorous snake you'll ever encounter, betrayed them and Napoleon was able to take the initiative in time to act first." She nodded thoughtfully. "If we can believe Geoffrey it was a question of mere minutes. Napoleon departed from his mistress' home a few minutes before the police arrived. And he didn't waver a second. He knew he had only one chance and he grasped it immediately. He went to the nearest barracks and convinced the officer in charge to back him. "

She shook her head and looked at Emilie.

"That should have been Papa" said she. "He told me that he was so outraged by the Directory's move that he never hesitated a second. To treat the hero of Egypt like that was so unacceptable for him that he forswore his oath. He still regrets that they forced him to do that…"

"At noon" added Jane, "Napoleon was the master of France and the members of the directory were arrested by their own guards…"

"But he didn't 'disappear' them" précised Anne. "Most of them are still alive and now stout supporters of their former nemesis."

"Papa had perhaps forsworn his oath" protested Emilie, "never would he have lowered himself to become a murderer. The members of the Directory were his prisoners and he was responsible for their safety… They risked nothing at all…"

That remark provoked amused glances all around the little group.

Emilie was a kind child and cute as a button but there was only one god in her private pantheon.

Mary smiled at the young girl and couldn't help but feeling proud of her.

Her look made her sisters laugh and she looked at them with surprise in the eyes.

"Don't mind," said Jane. "We're just smiling at the pride you're showing." She smiled at Emilie. "And I must admit that your pupil is quite worth your pride. She's already an asset to all the girls and with your schooling it will only be better…"

"But don't forget" said their mother, "that a smart mind is not enough for a girl. You'll have to teach her what you yourself skipped so easily. I'm sure your sisters will be able to help you to give your ward better chances that you allowed yourself."

"I don't need chance" protested Emilie. "I'll take my future into my own hands."

Mrs. Bennet could only smile at the young girl's naiveté. She would perhaps have it easier than her daughters' generation but it would surely not be that easy.

"Hopefully you're right" said Jane, "but it is much more probable that you'll have to bow, like we did, to a man's rule. Just be careful to choose the man you'll bow to with cleverness and cunning. Don't forget that the society is not yet ready to give to females the same rights that men have. We will work to lessen your burden but even I don't believe that females will be males' equals before a few more generations…" She smiled at Lizzie. "We will do our best to get more freedom and more rights but it won't be easy and you'll have enough work left for your whole life!"

Emilie just nodded with determination.

"You can count on me…"

And that brought out a general and amiable laugh.

* * *

"It seems they are quite satisfied with themselves" said Mr. Bennet while looking over at the little female cluster.

"Why shouldn't them" asked Fitzwilliam. "We are going to Paris which is the best place in the world to satisfy a female's whims…"

Mr. Bennet made a face.

"I'm quite sure they aren't speaking shopping and ribbons. They were way too serious a few minutes ago."

"They were probably speaking about our goal" said d'Arcy. "Jane asked me quite a lot of questions about France and Napoleon. Not one about shops and trinkets…"

Duroc snickered.

"Would you have known the answers?"

D'Arcy made an apologetic gesture.

"I know a few shops in Paris…" protested he.

"Workshops I'm sure you know but I'm quite sure you never entered the types of shops females take for granted…" The general pointed at the little group. "Maureen can probably be a better mentor in those matters than you'll ever will. She spent a few months there and if I remember well her wardrobe was rather embellished after her sojourn."

D'Arcy smiled.

"She did cost me quite a sum if I remember well" agreed he before sighing. "And I suppose it will cost me even more with Jane and her… I'm quite sure they'll use their free time to roam the best boutiques of the French Capitol city."

He winked at Fitzwilliam.

"Ready to see your Royal cassette plundered, your Majesty?"

"My wife is a reasonable female, she won't spend more than necessary and if all is said everything she'll spend will come out of my estates' revenues and not the State's cassette."

D'Arcy laughed out aloud.

"You're too honest and rightful for your own good Fitzwilliam! Be careful not to be eaten alive by your little Welsh Kingdom."

"Speaking of Welsh Kingdom" said Fitzwilliam, "when will my Cabinet arrive in Paris?"

"They sailed at the same time as us, but their ship is not so fast than the Dame… They'll probably need a day more to get to Paris. It will give us the possibility to prepare their quarters in your new Welsh embassy…"

"My new Embassy?"

"Indeed brother of mine, your new Embassy. I took the liberty to purchase a few buildings in Paris and I believe I have a little 'Hôtel Particulier' near the Louvre where you could host your Cabinet and your –soon to be named- Ambassador. You'll see the building is sound and should perfectly suit your needs…"

D'Arcy's smile took enormous proportions.

"And since my own –not so little- 'Hôtel Particulier' is situated only a few yards away –we share a garden- it shouldn't be too difficult to organize meetings with your Cabinet without disturbing our wives get-togethers."

"When will you stop meddling in other people's affaires?"

"When I'm dead" came d'Arcy's immediate answer. "But I don't meddle, I take into my hands the things other –not so smart or organized- people should have done and had missed to do."

Mr. Bennet who could feel that his sons' rivalry was soon to take unhealthy proportions stepped in.

"Boys, stop immediately! We all know that you are both smart and stubborn men who thrive to show their wives that they are the other's best. But I must recall you that said wives just want you to be smart and supportive brothers who have the good education to forget when together that they could –in other times- be rivals!"

Duroc couldn't help laughing at the way Mr. Bennet was able to deflate what could have become, without his doing, a major inconvenience.

"Sorry, father" said d'Arcy who quite knew that he had unsheathed first. "I just fell into old habits…"

"I pushed you a little" admitted Fitzwilliam with a smile. "But you must recognize that you are quite easy to push back into old habits…"

"Twenty years of bad habits don't disappear because of two months of marital life…" said d'Arcy. "I fear they will stay because with others I won't stop using them…"

Fitzwilliam looked at Duroc.

"Does he really speak thus with Napoleon?"

Duroc nodded.

"They continuously fight when together" said he. "It's as if two roosters were meeting on neutral ground. They know they shouldn't but they can't help it. They bicker and squabble all day long… The only reason they don't trade punches is Napoleon's very accurate grasp of his physical weakness compared to d'Arcy's." Duroc smiled. "He knows he wouldn't stand a second."

"But everybody believe you are Napoleon's man" said Mr. Bennet. "From what I could judge you could be considered as d'Arcy's man."

Duroc nodded and his smile became a little mysterious.

"That's because I'm France's man and being that I work for both with equal enthusiasm." He made a gesture to stop Mr. Bennet's next question. "If I had to choose I'll choose Napoleon because he was my first and best support when I was in need with Emilie. He even risked his life to give me the possibility to get her back. I owe him and I'm nothing if not loyal…"

"And since it isn't my plan to go against Napoleon it doesn't trouble me in the least," said d'Arcy. "Géraud is a loyal friend and trusted lieutenant and he had been very clear from the beginning of our association that had he to choose he would side with Napoleon…" He smiled. "I never tried to get more than what he was offering me."

"Are you spying on Geoffrey for Napoleon?"

Mr. Bennet's question made both his son in law and his trusted lieutenant laugh.

"Of course I do" answered Duroc. "Napoleon wants to know daily what his best strategist is doing with his troops." He looked Mr. Bennet in the eyes. "Wouldn't you wonder if a very capable man had seventy thousand men under his order?"

"And I prefer to know who's reporting on me" said d'Arcy. "Not because I want to hide part of the truth but because so I know _what_ will be reported and how it will reported. Géraud knows me and my experience shows that the person who reports is as important as what is reported. No man sees the same…"

"And what about trust?" grumbled Fitzwilliam.

"Trust is a wealth important Statesmen can't afford" replied d'Arcy. "Not to each other. I have my spies in Napoleon's house, in his office and within his consular guards. I trust Géraud here with my life but I can't trust him to believe what I say. So it is better to let him report what he saw and heard and let Napoleon make his decisions."

"How can you live such a life?" wondered Fitzwilliam. "I'll end up constantly looking over my shoulder and doubting everybody."

D'Arcy made a face.

"I was at a very tough school in China. What we live here in Europe is more like a Kindergarten then a political arena. Here most rulers never use assassination to get rid of a concurrent. In China it's probably the most common tool in the political game…" His mile went shark like. "I should know: I was a hired killer for ten years. And I never was without work even if I had only one sponsor."

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"But how is it possible to rule if you're constantly under the threat of being killed?"

"It's not so difficult because everybody knows the rules and the heads are seldom directly killed. Killing a trusted underling is the most common feat. It sends a message without pushing everybody into a killing frenzy. Most of the time it is enough to get a change in your opponent's politics."

"And I believed I had enough reasons to dislike politics" snorted Mr. Bennet. "Perhaps living in England has been a boon after all."

"Compared to Eastern policy making it is probable but I must reassure you the Chinese method cannot be imported in Europe."

"Why not?" asked Fitzwilliam.

"Because in China human life is worthless and because it is an accepted way to convey a message. If one of your underlings is killed it is a nuisance but it will never be taken personally. The only thing taken as personal is if you attack one of the direct heirs. Or, from time to time, to kill a loved concubine."

"And a wife," asked Fitzwilliam.

"Not necessarily" said d'Arcy. "Rich men have often more than one wives and marriages are more commercial contracts than love affairs. It has happened that a wife has been killed because of another wife's decision… As I said human life is worthless there, here it would soon become uncontrollable because people take so much more personally. The killing and counter killing would soon develop into a general bloodbath." He shook his head. "No, in Europe killing is only used to get somebody out of one's way. So it is a very rare feat. Not improbable but rarer that it is in those eastern countries."

He searched for an easier way to explain.

"Let's say it in other words. Imagine we are in China and Napoleon is my direct employer. He wants to let me know that he is displeased but he wants to stay on a very benign level. So he will choose to hit an underling to get me my message."

He looked at Duroc.

"He knows that I value Duroc and that we are more than just people who work together. But being important to me it will enforce the weight of the message if it comes through him. So he won't kill him because it could anger me! But he still wants to show me that he is worried about what I'm doing and that implies that he must hit a target that is neat but doesn't really matter."

He looked at Fitzwilliam.

"Do you guess who he would have killed?"

Darcy nodded.

"Emilie…"

"Indeed, Emilie" agreed d'Arcy. "Because being the only child of Duroc it will hurt him but being a girl her death is of no real importance since he is an underling and his daughter would only had cost him a dowry… She would be dead but I would lessen my underling's hurt by providing him one or two new concubines."

"Did you use that tool since you came to Europe?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"Yes" concurred d'Arcy. "As I said: old habits do die slowly. It's not as easy as it was in China but if I feel myself threatened I won't hesitate to kill to eliminate the threat. I've done it in Egypt and I almost did it to Napoleon. He saved his life with his golden tongue. Since then he is rather wary when around me…"

"Let's hear that story, Geoffrey" insisted Mr. Bennet. "I'm quite curious to know why you were intended to kill that man…"


	37. Shadows of Memories

**Chapter thirty seven: Shadows of Memories**

* * *

**Dame de Coeur, Monday the 15****th**** October **

* * *

"In fact we met by accident" said d'Arcy. "I was searching him and he ran into my arms… I didn't know it was him at first. Because had I known I would have let him die..;"

"Let him die?" asked Fizwilliam.

"Yes he was being chased by a gang of Chia Muslims who weren't very satisfied with some of his commercial decisions. They wanted him dead and I saw him being surrounded by that gang."

"So you jumped in…"

"He was alone and they were fifteen. I found the odds unfair."

"How much survived?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"None of the fifteen if that's your question. It's never a good idea to let witnesses describe what happened. Especially in countries where meddling into strangers' affairs is never taken lightly." He shook his head. "No, no, it's always better to kill everybody. Especially if the attackers are only hired thugs. It eases things in the future."

"So you killed them all?"

"No, I killed twelve of them, Napoleon killed two and his guard killed one before being killed."

"So you ended up facing each other" snickered Mr. Bennet.

"No, because as soon as the thugs had seen me they decided to go against me! Napoleon fled while I hacked all those idiots in little pieces."

He shook his head.

"I wouldn't even have followed him if the dying guard hadn't asked if the 'general' was safe… I had never seen Napoleon and I was very surprised to find out that the man about whom everybody spoke in Cairo had just shown himself as a coward…"

"Coward" protested Duroc. "You can't say that… He couldn't know that you would kill them this easily."

"As I said," snickered d'Arcy. "He fled! There's no other word. He ran to save his life and abandoned his guard to die!"

D'Arcy looked at Duroc.

"I would never abandon a man who fights for me. There is no honor in running away… "

"He had other obligations" insisted Duroc. "What would it have helped France to have him die there, alone, on a street in Cairo? The odds were against you and that guard; the smart move was to get out of there as soon as possible and come back with help!"

D'Arcy snorted.

"It was perhaps smart but I was also cowardly! And it was never his intention to come back with help. He just ran to save his life and he didn't lose a thought on what would happen to me or his guard. I said as much to him a few minutes later…"

D'Arcy shook his head and couldn't help laughing out aloud.

"He admitted it without any shame. He looked at me and invited me to go on with my business whatever it was…"

"Which you didn't…" said Mr. Bennet.

"Not so sure..." said d'Arcy. "For a long time I wondered why I didn't kill him at the time. He was there with only his petty sword –and he's an abysmal sword player, Fitzwilliam clumsy and untrained- and could have cut his throat without giving him a chance to dodge. And I didn't…"

"Why not?" asked Fitzwilliam.

"I realized that it would be foolish. This man was more useful alive than dead… If I could convince him to trust me I'd be in a better situation that ever before. With him I'd be perhaps able to go after other more ambitious goals…"

Mr. Bennet frowned.

"And he believed you after you threatened him?"

D'Arcy made a mitigating gesture.

"That's not quite the truth. I didn't threaten him; not in words at least. I reproached him his cowardly behavior. I stated that had he remained with us his guard would still be alive. And his enemy dead nevertheless…" D'Arcy smiled mischievously. "And then I decided to act smartly. I made a comment about France now being in the hands of peasants and men without honor and he immediately took the bait."

"What bait?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"He's part of the French Aristocracy, you know. Well, imported Toscan Aristocracy to be more precise, but Gentry nevertheless." D'Arcy looked at Mr. Bennet. "I suppose in terms of nobility he could be called lesser Gentry, a little better placed than you, father, because his father had saved his fortune by meddling in business."

D'arcy nodded.

"Yes he immediately took the bait. He felt that bringing up our common origins was the way to get his head out of the snare…"

He closed his eyes to remember more accurately.

"I wanted to use him and I managed to get him to think that he could use me… That prospect gave him back the use of his very bright mind and soon he was no longer speaking to save his life but to enlist me in his little schemes. With only him and I in that Arabian hovel he spoke about what was really of importance to him. And I let him convince me because I liked what I heard."

D'Arcy snickered once more.

"Of course, I didn't immediately abandon my rightful anger about his cowardly behavior. I was rather thick on the virtues I thought true Aristocracy should possess and show and while making him feel my anger I was able to get over quite a large part of the story I wanted him to hear."

He sighed.

"And I'm rather proud to be able to say that all I said was the truth. Of course I said it using a certain biased lighting in order to convince him of my utility and to highlight some foibles he could use to manipulate me. But in one hour I was able to let him know of my Eastern peregrinations and about the skills I had acquired. I quite liked his eyes shining at the prospect of using me…"

He nodded more to himself than to his listeners, his eyes half shut in his attempt to remember every detail.

"And it worked! After letting me wallow in my little rightful harangue he stroke back. And what he said was the speech of a Statesman. A man with a real feeling for the big picture. And I allowed myself to be entangled in his speech and to debate with him…"

He looked up.

"You must know that Napoleon hates criticisms. He believes himself very smart –which without a doubt he is- but he is too enamored in his own opinion to be a good listener. Which doesn't mean that you can do nothing to change his mind. But it is a risky business. I you're wrong in your judgment the price to pay will be immediate.

He shrugged.

"But I was no minion of him and losing his support was of no importance to me. So, that very night I rubbed his nose in every mistake he had done since arriving in Egypt. I explained to him what a –even not so- good naval commander could do with a fleet anchored against all common sense and rendered helpless by idiotic orders. I insisted on the way his greed had alienated him three quarters of Egypt's population without giving him the support of the remaining quarter… I told him what consequences his egomaniacal approach of other cultures would have for him and his troops."

His smile grew.

"Useless to say that in the morning he was angry and not satisfied with me… He nevertheless asked me if I would accept to help him… I stated my conditions and he grudgingly acknowledged my new status as his naval supervisor."

He made a face toward Darcy.

"You all know the rest of the story. I was in charge when Nelson came along and his excellent plan was bested by mine giving the French Navy its first real victory in decades. Napoleon was very pleased with the result and I soon was his trusted adviser…"

Mr. Bennet couldn't help but sigh.

"A shame you killed Nelson. He would have been a great asset."

"I didn't kill Nelson" protested d'Arcy. "The official history states that he was cut in half by a cannon ball. Never found the rests of his body…"

Mr. Bennet shot a suspicious look at his son in law. He knew that d'Arcy never used words without a reason. And the word 'official' was so temptingly obvious.

"What do you mean 'official'" asked he. "Is there an unofficial history?"

That granted him a satisfied smile from d'Arcy.

"Of course there is…Nelson's ship the Vanguard was the first to engage and even if she took heavy damage she was able to get out of the channel where the rest of his fleet was butchered and succeeded in sailing away."

"What happened afterwards?" asked Fitzwilliam.

"He was attacked by a fleet of Moorish pirates who took his vessel. He ended up sold as a slave in Algiers with the rest of his men…"

"Is he still alive?" asked Fitzwilliam who had never hidden that Horatio was one of his personal heroes.

"Last I checked he was preparing his fifth attempt to escape servitude," d'Arcy smiled his most innocent smile. "One day, when his master's security measures are sloppier, he'll probably succeed. Only God knows such things!"

"You bought him…" accused Fitzwilliam.

"No" denied d'Arcy. "I wasn't even in Algiers at that time."

"Don't play with words" grumbled Mr. Bennet. "One of your underlings or an agent bought him for you…"

D'Arcy made a placating gesture.

"Them… Bought them. I wouldn't let his officers and sailors rot in slavery alone and forgotten. Now they are all happily working in one of my dates plantation in the middle of the desert." His smile came back. "You know sailors are very efficient date harvesters. It has probably to do with their climbing skill… One day I'll even make a profit out of this venture."

Fitzwilliam was visibly shaken his feelings wandering between elation that a man he admired wasn't dead and his anger for a man who, once more, had shown that he could be a gutless bastard.

It was, once again, Mr. Bennet who deflated the incoming conflict.

"Well those are great news! Don't we agree, Fitzwilliam? A man who could have ended up slowly dying as a rower in a Barbary Ship alive and scheming to escape from servitude…"

He looked at d'Arcy and in his eyes Duroc could read a warning for his eldest son in law.

"And what could be done to speed up the eventuality of a release…"

D'Arcy looked at his father in law for a few seconds before shrugging.

"He refused to give his word to never again fight against France! He's a stubborn and arrogant bastard and what he gets just now is his own doing!"

"He is a British Hero" snarled Fitzwilliam.

"He is a British idiot" answered d'Arcy. "He prefers to go on climbing Palm Trees, so be it!"

"Boys" interjected Mr. Bennet in his best commanding voice. "Stop it right now…"

He looked at Fitzwilliam and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"If I remember well, Jane was quite sad when she heard of Nelson's death…"

D'arcy was immediately facing his father in law.

"I won't let you manipulate me in such a petty _English_ manner, father!"

Mr. Bennet didn't hide a satisfied smile.

"Efficient petty English manner, son. You'll see!"

* * *

"We could propose him to serve in the Welsh navy…" said Lizzie who was quite taken by what was happening. Jane had never in her life shown any interest in naval affairs and the Abukir defeat had never touched her or her sisters over a little national sadness at hearing the news of a defeat.

"What Welsh navy" asked Geoffrey and Fitzwilliam in a same voice?

"He wouldn't know there's no Welsh Navy" said Jane who had played the role her father had begged of her with as much truthfulness as possible. But since she still was the worst liar of all the British Islands it hadn't been very efficient.

But if she had never been a Horatio Nelson fan, she was a resolute fighter for the abolition of slavery. And she was rater upset to hear that her beloved husband had slaves somewhere in the Arabian Desert.

"So everybody would save face and _we_" and there was a heavy insistence on that _we_, "could get rid of those slaves who are in total contradiction with our beliefs about equality and human rights…"

"They are not really slaves, they are prisoners of war. In fact what I really did was saving them from slavery!" claimed d'Arcy.

"Then it's even more necessary to free them" insisted Jane. "France and England are no longer at war, don't we agree, dear?"

"The fact that the war is at an end isn't the same as having a peace" said her husband showing them his most stubborn side.

"But do you really believe that Napoleon would refuse to sign a Peace Treaty?"

"He would be an idiot…"

"Do you believe he is an idiot?" asked Jane.

"Other smart men had shown that they could be idiots on matters of principles…"

"As you make us, right now, a perfect demonstration…" said Jane with a little teasing smile.

"No" vowed d'Arcy. "No oath, no release… That's final!"

Jane didn't insist and a glance at Lizzie conveyed the message that she would take that matter into her hands and that it was time for everybody else to stop harassing her husband.

As demonstrated seconds earlier even smart men could act like idiots if they were pushed into it…

Lizzie took Fitzwilliam's arm and pulled him out of the little circle.

"The rest is no business of ours" said she. "Come walk with me, I need to stretch my legs..."

* * *

"Why?"

D'Arcy looked up and his eyes were much clearer than a few minutes before.

"This stubborn idiot puts me in jeopardy. I vowed not to let him go while he refuses to give me his oath. And he goes on being stubborn."

He looked at his wife and sighed.

"I won't lose face before that upstart sailor. If he doesn't give me his word he's staying in that Date Palm plantation!"

Jane nodded and was very conscious that her husband was not happy with the situation but he would stay adamant if Nelson refused to yield.

_Men!_

"What would happen if Fitzwilliam asked him to stop playing the fool?"

D'Arcy shrugged.

"I don't know. He really is stubborn and as I see it he won't budge whatever happens!"

"One could consider that the King of Wales is in some way heir of the United Kingdom. We could try to let him send a command to Nelson. The worst would be that he refuses to follow Fitzwilliam's order. And then we would just be at the same point than today."

D'Arcy made a face. She could see that the solution wasn't to his liking but he would accept it as a last resort.

She kissed him lightly on the lips and after a last smile she slipped out of his arm and went to speak with Lizzie's husband.

D'Arcy's eyes followed her and soon his bad mood disappeared. Had she asked him to let Nelson go even without an oath he would of course have accepted! But she didn't and he loved her even more because of her understanding.

* * *

"Of course I'll order that idiot to come out of hiding hole!" said Darcy. "It is his duty to come back and fight not to hide behind his pride!'

Lizzie couldn't help and burst out laughing.

"And that advice comes from a specialist isn't it?"

He shot her a dark glance but since it didn't stop her merry laugh he soon had no choice but to join her.

"Indeed I can't deny that, in certain rare circumstances, pride is no stranger to my ways…"

Jane suddenly frowned and asked for their attention.

"Don't forget to describe him the new political situation of the British Islands… I'm quite sure Geoffrey didn't let them know that England is now a French possession. It could push him into finally accepting Geoffrey's conditions."

Fitzwilliam nodded.

"Indeed I'll send him a complete report of the situation. And a strong demand to reconsider his position. Hopefully he'll accept my arguments."


	38. Arrival

**Chapter thirty eight: France Arrival**

* * *

**Dame de Coeur, France, Wednesday the 17****th**** October **

* * *

France appeared on the horizon around three o'clock in the afternoon.

"We will be in Rouen around six o'clock" said the captain. "The disembarkation will take around an hour…"

D'Arcy nodded and looked at the horizon.

"There will be enough carriages in waiting to embark everybody. We will not stay in town but exit Rouen immediately and travel for two hours. Then we will arrive to one of my estates where everything's ready to host us."

Fitzwilliam, standing at his side, tried to see the coast.

"Are we sure? I see nothing…"

"In a few minutes we'll see the coast" said the captain. "Then we will go south toward the Seine estuary and lose once more the sight of the coast… The wind is promising and we will again see the coasts in about an hour…"

Darcy nodded and turned to look at his brother in law.

"Why not staying in Rouen?"

"I prefer not being in town" said d'Arcy. "Nobody knows I'm coming to France. It will be a complete surprise. No welcome committee and no angry protesters. Only a few curious by-standers will see us disembark. And that's exactly what I want! We will arrive at a moment where the town will still be very alive. There will be quite a lot of people in town. The rumors will start immediately. Within an hour everybody in town and surroundings will know who came ashore. Soon the word will spread that I'm here and with me quite a lot of interesting people –my wife included- and people will move to get a look. I prefer to be out of town before we have to face a crowd because even a friendly crowd means problems."

He snickered.

"And if we stay in town for the night we won't be able to sleep because of the carnival in the streets around the hostel. And I don't even envision how it will be in the morning. I'm sure our departure tomorrow would take the whole morning if not the whole day…"

He shook his head.

"No, we disembark, we climb into the carriages and we move immediately" insisted d'Arcy. "We won't even wait in order to take the luggage with us. It will follow in escorted carts. I want us out of town within half an hour of our arrival."

He turned toward the captain.

"And I want the Dame out of port the moment all the luggage is unloaded. Go to Dunkerque and await my orders."

The captain nodded and walked away to give his own orders.

D'Arcy sighed.

"If it wouldn't be extremely harsh on the ladies I would even have preferred to travel through the night and next day to arrive at Paris without anybody noticing our passage."

"You fear attacks?"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"No, no chance of that, what I really fear is to be slowed down by curious or enthusiastic crowds." He looked in Fitzwilliam's eyes and a little tired smile appeared on his face.

"I do love my wife; she's a kind and loving creature who, day after day, makes me a better man. But put twenty smiling people in front of her and, within a minute, she's chatting with them and trying to solve their problems. So put those same smiling people on the road before a carriage where Jane is hosted and you just say goodbye to your travel schedule. If that happens; any chance to arrive to Paris before Christmas is forever lost."

Fitzwilliam tapped his brother on the shoulder.

"I believe you Geoffrey, even if I'm quite sure that we would be in Paris before the end of October, I recognize that the risk of being greatly delayed exists…"

D'Arcy made a face that showed his fears.

"It could be much worse than that, Fitzwilliam. If we rush through Rouen we have a chance to travel incognito. And I really want us to be able to travel incognito. Because the moment the news that _madame_ d'Arcy is traveling toward Paris is becoming common knowledge Hell will broke loose and thousands of people will be streaming toward us! To have a chance to see _her_ in the flesh we'll face a real migration."

He made a sign with his eyebrows and Fitzwilliam turned around to see both their wives walking toward them.

The second they looked at their wives welcoming smiles blossomed on their lips.

Each of them secured his favorite Bennet daughter and the four of them began to look in direction of France.

"Lizzie and I were just discussing your travel arrangements and we came to the conclusion that we should, perhaps, try to go as far as possible before stopping to rest." She pointed toward the sky who was of the same intense blue that the previous day.

"The journey was perfect and we feel rested and not in the least stressed. We could be in Paris tomorrow, couldn't we? What's the distance between the two towns?"

"About a hundred miles" answered d'Arcy. "If we move immediately after having disembarked we could be in Paris before the end of the night…"

Jane looked at Lizzie and they both nodded.

"I don't know for the others but for us it is clear that we prefer to be in Paris as soon as possible. It will be tiring and because of it tomorrow will probably be a difficult day but it would be better not to risk being trapped by mobs of curious people…"

She looked at her husband.

"Do you have scheduled something for tomorrow?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing's scheduled for you at all before Sunday. A courier will rush to Paris as soon as we are in Rouen with a report for Napoleon. I hope he will be able to arrange an appointment very soon but the best I hope is to be able to see Napoleon on Friday. Tomorrow would be better but, with the Czar visiting, it could be that he has no free time at all to receive me."

"So" said Jane, "you'll be occupied with Napoleon but all the others would be free to do as they wish?"

D'Arcy nodded.

"Tomorrow for sure, but if Josephine gets word of your arrival I'm quite sure that she'll organize a little get together with you as soon as possible. Were I in your shoes I wouldn't schedule anything important for Friday. The invitation could be at our door as soon as tomorrow evening. And if she's really curious she's very able to invite you to break the fast with her…"

"We'll have to go shopping" remarked Lizzie. "We have no idea what the current fashion in Paris looks like…"

"There's a dressmaker waiting for you and all the other ladies at our home in Paris. You'll have up to date dresses made within a day." He smiled at his wife. "She's the same who created your wedding dress, dear. You'll be very satisfied with her…" He shot his wife a look that made her blush. "And she'll be very satisfied with you. It isn't every day that a dressmaker has the privilege to dress the two most beautiful ladies in town…"

* * *

An hour later the travel arrangements were finalized.

The Bennet sisters and Emilie would take a fast carriage to be in Paris as soon as possible. D'Arcy, Darcy and Duroc would mount horses and accompany the escort till Paris.

The rest of the party under Mr. Bennet's supervision would follow the more sedate schedule d'Arcy had first envisioned. They would stay for the night in d'Arcy estate and follow leisurely Thursday to join the youngsters at d'Arcy's home around Thursday evening.

* * *

A few minutes after half past six that day the fast carriage hosting Jane, Lizzie, Mary, Lydia and Emilie exited the town of Rouen to move East toward Paris.

Nobody had suspected the identity of the travelers and they had been able to disembark the ship and climb in the carriage without being identified. Duroc's aide de camp had taken care of all administrative procedures and soon everybody was en route.

* * *

"I'm quite excited" said Lydia with a tremor. "Tomorrow we are in Paris!"

Emilie made a face.

"Last I was there it was a real bore," remarked Emilie. "Papa was always away. I was asleep when he came home and he was out before I was up… And there are too many people in that town. They crush and trample you without even acknowledging your existence. Paris' people are unkind and unsympathetic." She looked at Mary. "I hope there's a nice library at monsieur d'Arcy's house. I heard him speaking of a winter garden, it would be nice to read surrounded by exotic trees and flowers."

"I'm sure there is, dear" said Jane who was quite surprised by her sister Mary's changes. Her dresses were still very strictly shaped –_no bare back for Mary_- but they were now colorful and made in much better fabrics than of late. She smiled a lot and it was doing wonders to her appearance. She no longer was plain and while smiling she was rather amazing. Was she in love? That was still a mystery because unlike her sisters Mary didn't really share her feelings. But to judge by her smiles she wasn't unhappy at all.

_Well_, thought Jane, _hopefully this journey will give her answers about her future_.

She sighed.

_Hopefully it will us all give answers_.

"How long will that part of the journey last?"

"With luck" answered Jane, "we could be at our Paris home around midnight. It depends on the quality of the road. If the road is dry or cobbled we will move fast. If there's mud and murky ruts it could take us till sun rise."

"Well that means quite a few hours to spend together" said Lydia. "What shall we do? I propose either a little word game or..."

* * *

"Here we are, dear" said Mr. Bennet who was for once sitting in front of his wife in the carriage they had for them alone. "France and soon Paris… Who would have thought a year ago, where fate would place us?"

Mrs. Bennet shrugged.

"I no longer wonder about anything dear, I just take it as it comes… We are no longer the simple Bennets from Meryton, Hertfordshire! We, like our daughters, have changed…" She smiled at her husband. "And in my opinion we have changed for the best."

Edward Bennet nodded.

_Indeed we have changed and like you I believe it was for the best_.

"There are fairy tales even in such a wretched environment as Europe at war!"

"Hopefully the war part is over and peace will soon reign over Europe."

Mr. Bennet's smile disappeared and he made a face.

"The presence of the Czar is no foreboding of peaceful days to come. He's a young man and he's rumored to have his father killed to get at the Throne. He will look at Napoleon's and Geoffrey's achievements and he will want to emulate them. Notwithstanding that war and –hopefully- victories will be the best way for a not yet liked King to assume his role and his standing…"

Mrs. Bennet frowned.

"So you believe there will be other wars in the coming years?"

Mr. Bennet nodded fiercely.

"Probably as soon as next year, dear. Alexander, like every young man, lusts after fame and glory. And being a King that means that he is considering war. And since, from what d'Arcy told me, Napoleon is out to wage war as soon as he gets a new pretext, it means that the next war is already being prepared…"

Mrs. Bennet shook her head and sighed.

"Now that we are out of that ugly entail business I must admit that I'm rather satisfied not having a son who could be sent to war… Having only daughters is a real boon!"

"Jane got shot if I remember well! And it was of her doing alone. She put herself in harm's way…"

"That's even more reason to thank God for having only girls! Imagine that same recklessness in a boy? I shudder at the thought!"

"So do I, dear, so do I…"

After a lengthy silence Mrs. Bennet tore her eyes from the beautiful countryside and sighed again.

"Where will the war go?"

"I'm no seer, dear but I'd say south toward Turkey. Russia has had for a long time the prospect to "free" the Constantinople Hagia Sophia from heathen's influence. Not to speak about freeing the Greek orthodox Christians from the Muslim yoke. It could be that with napoleon's support the Czar feels strong enough to attack the part of the Ottoman Empire he borders with at the south…"

"That means Walachia…" said Mrs. Bennet who had studied a few maps before coming to France.

"It would be the clever move. Walachia is a Slavic nation enslaved under Muslim rules. The Russian will be welcomed as liberators. And I would be surprised if, with the Russians launching a campaign at their North, the Rumanians wouldn't try to rise up and oust the Turks before the Russians are ready to replace them." He snickered. "Not that it will stop the Czar to 'liberate' a second time them all the same! And they'll soon applaud his benevolent rule!"

He shook his head.

"And I don't speak about Austria who will attack Turkey the day after Russia launched its assault just to grab a part of the European Ottoman Empire. As I see it the Sultan in Istanbul has a lot to worry about. It could very well be that next fall there's nothing left of his mighty realm…"

"Will Geoffrey be involved?"

"If France launches a second front on Turkey from Syria's border –which would be the smart military move- it is likely that Napoleon will have him command an army group. Were I Napoleon I'd regroup all my armies in Syria and attack the Ottomans in Anatolia. With the specific goal to reach Greece before Alexander. Because there's a real possibility that the power who seizes Greece being the power to get the Balkans…"

He forced himself to talk.

"That's enough. As I said I know nothing about Napoleon's plans and everything I said is conjecture. What I know is that Napoleon's armies are in Ireland and if he wants them in Syria he will have to organize a real migration. If the weather is not favorable, it could be that they aren't in place in spring…"

"Will Russia wait?"

"I wouldn't were I Alexander. The Sultan won't be able to ferry troops from his Syrian borders to his frontier with Russia; not without taking the risk to 'invite' a French aggression. So for Alexander it will change nothing but give him a head start in the race for Greece. He'll attack with Napoleon ready or not…"

Mrs. Bennet sighed.

"Jane won't like it…She will be a very pregnant woman when Geoffrey will be called to war. She will stay in England with us or in Wales with Lizzie. No chance Geoffrey will take her with him in such a state."

Mr. Bennet took his wife's hands in his own.

"She'll be on safe and known ground and she'll know it's best for the children. She will not like it but she will accept it with fortitude. She's nothing if not a responsible woman." He glanced at his wife. "And no she won't be in Longbourn with us because we will be with Lizzie in Cardiff. Let's not forget that she will be as pregnant as Jane and that they will surely have chosen to spend their last weeks of pregnancy together."

Mrs. Bennet snorted.

"Will we ever again find peace and stop travelling?"

"When we're buried side by side?"

She slapped gently at him, her mien angry but her eyes sparkling.


	39. Close Encounters of the Highest Kind

**Chapter thirty nine: Paris Close Encounters of the Highest Kind**

* * *

**Paris, Thursday the 18****th**** October **

* * *

"I got your message and I came as soon as I had confirmation of your arrival…"

D'Arcy nodded and took another sip of the red wine he shared with Napoleon in his study. Jane was, like the rest of the household asleep, and nobody, save the guards had seen that he had a nightly visitor.

And even the guards didn't know who it was…

"And what do you think?"

"I'm not enthusiastic! Not enthusiastic at all… Why should we relinquish a country we took so easily? And it has the potential to bring us quite a jolly chunk of wealth."

D'Arcy didn't hide his smile.

"The usual greedy bastard, aren't we? You know what it brought you in Cairo. Without me we would have lost Egypt and Syria and the Brits would be harvesting."

"But we are harvesting England…"

D'Arcy looked at him with a little satisfied smile.

Napoleon snorted.

"At least you are harvesting England…"

"And I won't stop to harvest even after having freed them," said d'Arcy. "And so will you! I'm quite sure that two, if not three, of our new investors are straw men of yours."

Napoleon made a face.

"Experience has shown that you never have enough funds…" He shot an icy glance at d'Arcy. "And don't try and convince me that you haven't retrieved the English gold out of the Channel. Remember, I've seen Fulton's prototype…"

"And you dismissed it as useless because it would have cost you two thousand francs! I have invested five times that sum in that little machine and it has paid a thousand fold!"

"I want half of that gold..." grumbled Napoleon.

"Half of nothing is nothing, I agree…" smiled d'Arcy.

"Don't play that game with me, monsieur d'Arcy. You know I have a nose for such things. I know you've got it…"

D'Arcy leaned forward and played with his glass.

"Let's suppose I have a working submarine, let's suppose also that said submarine was not very far away of the two sunken gold ships when they touched the ground of the estuary…"

"So you confess…" said Napoleon while pointing a finger at d'Arcy.

"I wasn't aware of your new title, monsignore" said d'Arcy. "Are we now in the clergy?"

Napoleon forced himself to stay calm.

"Stop playing with me, I don't like it at all!"

D'Arcy nodded.

"Let's go on supposing, will you?"

Napoleon nodded.

"Suppose half of the 'saved' gold was in storage somewhere near Paris? In a little inconspicuous house's second cellar? And that this little house would be on the market for a very high price which explains why it hasn't already found a buyer…"

Napoleon leaned more comfortably into his chair and smiled a d'Arcy.

"You know the address?"

"I have it on the tip of the tongue… I'm sure that the occurrence of something pleasant would trigger my memory!"

"Could the signing of your peace treaty be considered as such a pleasant occurrence?"

D'Arcy nodded.

"Of course it would! Politically it would be a master stroke. First you show that you are smart enough to favor a strong alliance over a dangerous and shaky domination by force. Second you get French Canada back which is, believe a man who knows where to put his money to make a profit, worth a lot more than a country full of people who distrust you and who, one day or the other, will revolt against your rule because you'll be your usual greedy self!"

Napoleon banged his fist on the table.

"Stop it immediately! Nobody says such things to me… I'm the most powerful ruler in the world. Show respect man!"

D'Arcy snickered.

"I'm showing lots of respect, o you marvelous and generous ruler! And saying the truth is the greatest sign of respect I can give you. Consider me as your own personal and secret jester. Nobody has the balls to say you the truth? Ask me! I won't hesitate and believe me if there's one thing I know about you which will bring your doom it is that bottomless greed you show!"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"You're the only fabulously rich man I know who steals trinkets whenever he can get his hands on them!"

Napoleon grumbled and leaned back into his armchair…

"How much would it be?"

"I recovered gold worth 12 million pounds…" said d'Arcy. "And I haven't sold even one bar of it since I got them. Five million worth of them are my deposit in the Company's Bank… They are there to give the Company a monetary base everybody can understand. We won't have to spend any of them, the fact that they exist and can be shown to anyone who wants to see them is enough to secure any bargain!"

"So you still have seven million pounds in gold hidden somewhere?"

"Six of them await a generous buyer somewhere near Paris…"

"If that treaty is signed…"

D'Arcy nodded and his smile grew. He already knew what Napoleon's final answer would be. Now they were just haggling about the price

"If you sign this treaty, yes o you marvelously generous ruler of France."

"Don't mock me d'Arcy, you are bribing me!"

"Indeed I am, but look at the amount of the bribe. Never ever was anyone so expensive to bribe…"

Napoleon sighed lengthily and looked at d'Arcy through half closed eyes.

"My spies told me that your agents are roaming Lloyds' catalogs and the archives of the Spanish Gold fleet…"

D'Arcy snickered.

"I have the only workable submarine and there are huge amounts of precious metals on the ground of the sea. I would be a fool not to have loyal people searching for them…"

"I want half of that too…"

"You're the most greedy bastard who ever reigned over France! And I don't see why I would share with you treasures nobody would have been able to search for decades… "

Napoleon slammed his fist again on the table.

"I'm no shopkeeper d'Arcy! I could have you arrested and jailed for the rest of your life."

"I won't stay two days in a prison and you know it quite well and once out of jail you'll have a very upset d'Arcy in your hair… Better to kill me…"

"I could…" began Napoleon but this time it was d'Arcy who interrupted him.

"Don't even say it, my friend" said he in a very hushed voice. "You can threaten me all you want but the second you threaten her I'm finished playing soft."

Napoleon looked his proconsul in the eyes and nodded.

"Message acknowledged, monsieur d'Arcy but I won't budge. It's 50 percent of what you remove from the sea and that's it! Or I'll just refuse to sign that treaty of yours…"

"You'll never know that I haven't cheated…"

"If you agree to the bargain; I'll get 50 percent of the treasure I don't doubt it a second!"

"You'll get 50 percent of the sale value of all precious metal my men find on the bottom of the seas…"

"And half the gems…"

"And half the gems!" nodded d'Arcy.

Napoleon opened his mouth to ask for more but d'Arcy's mien told him that it would probably not be a good idea.

"The address?"

"It will be at the backside of your copy of the treaty…" answered d'Arcy.

Napoleon snickered.

"You don't trust me, my friend?"

"It depends" said d'Arcy after a few minutes silence. "As you very well know, till this very moment you never exactly agreed to sign said treaty, you just threatened not to sign if you didn't get what you want, so as of now there is still a doubt in my mind. A clear and positive declaration would have assuaged my fears…"

He looked at Napoleon and lifted his glass in his honor.

"But I do know that such a clear and assertive declaration will not come! I don't doubt for a moment that you'll sign the treaty," his smile grew and his eyes sparkled mischievously, "some day in the not far future."

That remark erased Napoleon's angry mien and it was his turn to smile.

"You really know me too well, d'Arcy. I should have you shot…"

D'Arcy acknowledged the compliment… and the threat.

"Now you have all the cards on the table. The day you sign you get the funds you crave. You can even decide not to sign that treaty at all. It's all up to you; I've made my moves and you are the one who can ratify the whole bargain."

He sighed.

"That should assuage your sense of importance."

D'arcy leaned forward and both men took a few seconds to straighten their thoughts.

"You know I'm not a sycophant, I won't make undeserved compliments. So if I say that you are the smartest man I ever encountered, you can take it at face value. There are fields where you are even my best. But you do have that one huge foible which is the best lever of all." He sighed. "When it's a matter of money, o rapacious ruler, you're up to anything. So let's just consider that my precaution isn't lack of trust but a reasonable judgment about what is able to make you do things faster. I get my treaty and you get your money at the same moment. No temptation offered means no risk taken!"

Napoleon nodded and leaned forward to look into d'Arcy eyes.

"You want it clearly uttered, alright! I'll sign your treaty and I'll renounce to England! But I want to know exactly why you have done everything you've done till now… I know some will say that you are doing it because your wife is unhappy with the present situation but we both know that that's bullshit! Even if, like I do, you love your wife madly, you won't renounce to any means of power just to content her. There is something else, I sniff it! So let's stop beating around the bush and let's hear the truth! I want to know the whole little scheme you're building that needs a free England to come to fruition and I-want-to-know-it-now."

D'Arcy closed his eyes and thought for a few seconds then he nodded and began to speak.

An hour later Napoleon's laughter was shaking the very walls of the house.

* * *

When he entered silently their bedroom he wasn't surprised to see her awake.

"Why are you awake" whispered he while undressing.

"You know it always wakes me when you aren't at my side…"

D'Arcy gave his wife a kiss and slipped back into the bed. Soon she was in his arms and he shamelessly cuddled her.

As usual, when everything was alright Maureen was soundly asleep.

"I heard a strange laugh… Was there somebody who came to see you?"

"It was Napoleon" answered d'Arcy immediately. "I have him sent a report about why I wanted to see him. He was interested and we bargained over it… He finally accepted what I came to Paris to propose him."

"The famous thing that would please me no end?" asked she.

"The famous thing that_ will_ please you no end!" agreed he while sighing in a show of great satisfaction.

She didn't ask further. She knew he wanted to make her the surprise. And she knew that he was taking a lot of pleasure in anticipating her own pleasure.

He was visibly satisfied and she knew him well enough to be very sure that his certainty that she would be pleased with what he was preparing was based on his knowledge of her.

She wouldn't cheat him of that by nagging at him.

She would have to wait… And she had known for a long time that the anticipation of pleasure is a pleasure in its own right.

* * *

"Papa and Mama just arrived" said Lydia intruding without knocking in the comfortable study Jane, Lizzie and Maureen had made their own for what was their daily 'sister-talk'.

Maureen looked at Jane who nodded her agreement.

Soon Maureen was outdoors checking over her ward's parents and helping them to settle themselves in the house.

Maureen and Jane had spoken lengthily about their new relationship and Maureen had been very adamant that it would be a very bad idea to alter their visible relations.

What happened by night in the rooms of the apartment they shared was no one's business.

At days Maureen was, as it was her duty as the perfect bodyguard, unobtrusive, discreet and very attentive. And she was now even more dedicated at holding danger at bay.

So during the day light Maureen was at Jane's side to do her job of protecting her ward.

It was no longer as difficult as it was at the beginning. Because Jane, thanks to her almost daily training, was acquiring what Maureen called the 'perception'.

She was more and more aware of those things that were happening in her surroundings that weren't right…

And she was including that perception in the way she placed herself, moved or behaved.

Soon the Bennets were reunited in one of the 'salons' whose large glass doors opened onto the Gardens.

For now they were inside because the clear October day was rather cold.

"We had a very delightful sojourn in that estate of yours, dear," said Mrs. Bennet while nibbling at a piece of cake and sipping at her tea. "If you agree we will probably spend a few days there before going back to Longborn, or London or Cardiff, wherever… It is delightfully situated in a grove near a little lake. Knowing my brother, Edward would love fishing in it."

Jane smiled at her parents.

"You don't need to have my or Geoffrey's agreement to visit one or all of our estates… If you are willing to spend the next two years wandering from estate to estate, you're welcome to organize your own little 'Tour de France'." Her smile disappeared. "I'm quite sure I won't, for quite a few years to come, have the time to do it… So if you can do it and write me regular letters I'll perhaps have a chance to get other news than economic reports…"

Mrs. Bennet tapped her daughter's hand.

"You're young and healthy, dear. Once your children are born, you'll have plenty of time to visit your estates with your husband and your kids… Don't once more become melancholy on us! You're in Paris and you're in possession of enough pin money to raid every boutique in Paris…"

She looked at her daughters.

"And, I, for my part, cannot fathom why we found you at home chatting like old women! You should be out there, visiting, goggling and buying whatever your heart craves for…"

"It was a long and tiring night, Mama" said Lizzie. "And Geoffrey and Fitzwilliam, before going to their appointment with Napoleon, asked us to stay home…" She sighed. "And as it is I'm not very interested in going shopping just now. Maureen had promised to show us Paris tomorrow. We will visit, goggle and shop at our heart's content soon enough."

Mrs. Bennet could only shake her head.

"Girls you are way too reasonable! Forget about your husbands' duties and take a little fun. Your duties will, I'm sure of it, soon catch up with you. So take the opportunity while you can!"

She stood up and put her cup of tea on the table.

"I'll take it into m…"

There was a knock on the door that interrupted her.

"Yes" said Jane whose duty as the Mistress was to answer.

One of her liveried servant came in.

"We have a visitor calling, madame! Madame Bonaparte asks for the privilege to be received."

* * *

Josephine Bonaparte was no bigot and had never shunned the truth when she came to encounter it.

And she had to admit that she needed all her precious self-control not to shout angrily at the world.

The rumors had been all over Paris and the words beautiful, gorgeous and stunning had been used. As they always were before reality came in and destroyed all those petty delusions.

But in truth reality was even crueler! Mrs. D'Arcy was beautiful and gorgeous and stunning there was no way to deny it! She could try and demonstrate to the whole world that she was only a jealous old hag unable to accept that she was outclassed.

Because _madame_ d'Arcy was more than stunning and beautiful, she was… She searched for a word apt to describe what she was seeing.

Kind! It was probably the best qualifier. Beautifully kind or kindly beautiful were other ways to define the young woman facing her but in truth it was her kindness who defined her much more than her beauty. Even if said beauty was real and tingling every jealous fiber in Josephine's body!

And to add insult to injury, she was so young…

Madame d'Arcy's smile had lighted the room the second she entered. And, her experience was shouting it to her, it was a genuinely pleased smile. No jealousy or scheming in that smile, just genuine pleasure to meet her.

"Madame Bonaparte" smiled Jane d'Arcy. "I wouldn't have dreamed that you would give us the pleasure to call. I was hoping to be able to meet you but I always imagined it as a short, curt and formal meeting…"

Josephine couldn't help but smile back.

"Do you really believe that, knowing you had come, I could overcome my female curiosity and await tomorrow's reception for the Czar to have a chance to see the famous and rumored _madame_ d'Arcy?"

Jane blushed and bowed in acknowledgement of the compliment.

"I must admit that I was hoping Geoffrey could organize a more informal encounter. But he's already at work with your husband and I'm not sure he would have been able to do me that favor…"

Jane shook her head.

"And I had no idea that there would be a reception for the Czar tomorrow…" There was genuine distress in her eyes.

"I fear we will never be ready…"

"That's absolute rubbish" intervened Josephine. "We will be ready, I swear you…"

She looked in the eyes of d'Arcy's spouse.

"Would you accept me as your guide in Paris' fashion?"

"I would be delighted" answered Jane d'Arcy. "Me and my sisters couldn't imagine a better suited guide… Your taste in matters clothes and fashion is famous even in backward Counties like Hertfordshire where I grew up…"

Josephine thanked for the compliment with a little head bow and a smile.

"Then let's not waste more time… We are not yet in a hurry but we could be if we don't act immediately!"

She pointed at the door.

"Let's go ladies, Paris awaits us!"


	40. Shopping trip

**Chapter forty: Paris shopping trip**

* * *

**Paris, Thursday the 18****th**** October **

* * *

Paris wasn't rioting.

Paris was bubbling like a shaken champagne bottle. Lots of people were in the streets and most of them were converging toward the Marais where rumors placed the first Consul's and d'Arcy's wives.

Fouché just swore once more and ordered more of his men to cordon the streets in said quarter.

He was running short of manpower. He couldn't even call more of the troops since most of them were in Ireland, England or Syria…

The Czar has proposed to order his Cossacks to give a hand but Napoleon, on Fouché's strong demand, had politely refused.

For now they were all hosted in Vincennes where Fouché had deported half of Paris' prostitutes to provide their Russian guests with enough 'womanpower'.

But still Fouché was unhappy.

Very unhappy!

Last night Napoleon and d'Arcy had met and he knew nothing of what was said during this meeting. And having not the least idea about what those two dangerous rascals had spoken of had triggered his inborn paranoia.

Were they preparing his demise?

Had d'Arcy taken umbrage of his last succeeded attempt to bribe one of his secretaries?

Probably not since his man was still alive! And his reports were steadily coming in like that last one about last night's encounter between Napoleon and d'Arcy.

Fouché sighed and forced himself to remain calm.

They were all his enemies but this wasn't a good period to change the Minister of Police Forces. So he was probably safe.

For now…

He took, for the tenth time the last report of his agent at d'Arcy's and swore once more because of that coward's lack of courage! He was paid to take risks, wasn't he?

He would have to find another one.

Soon…

_Well I'm probably safe till the Czar returns to his icecap. Meanwhile there is perhaps something to do about d'Arcy._

He opened a hidden drawer and took out a file.

A rather thick file about a man he was looking at with interest.

A certain George Darcy…

Once more he went through the life story of that half-brother of the King of Wales and, by marriage, brother of d'Arcy.

And George Darcy was behaving very strangely these last few days.

Nobody goes from petty thief and con man to freedom fighter without a very good reason.

Fouché knew himself to be very good at discovering other people's reasons. But right now he was finding nothing.

For the last weeks George Darcy had been very active but not as a freedom fighter, as a very normal criminal who was after his half-brother's wealth. For Fouché that was a normal behavior for a man like George Darcy. One day he would have made a mistake and Belgram would have caught him and the justice would have had no problems to convict the man.

But no longer was he behaving normally.

In Fouché's experience such a change could only be motivated by two things. He did it to please somebody, mostly a woman, or because somebody was manipulating or threatening him.

The first Fouché eliminated immediately. That Darcy had the morals of a pimp. He had learned how to use and abuse women and he had only contempt for them. Never would he place himself in jeopardy for a woman.

So it was the second drive. Threatened or manipulated.

In George Darcy's case it could be either or both.

He had probably also lots of enemies who had, without a doubt, plenty ways to put little George under pressure. But he would have bolted and tried to go underground for some time now.

He wouldn't have danced to the piper's tune more than a few days before going into hiding.

Remained only the last possibility: manipulation!

George believed himself very smart but in reality he had the basic cunning of a very common thug. So he could probably be manipulated quite easily…

So it wasn't him. Somebody else was hiding a plot under George Darcy's petty exploits.

He would have to send one or two good men to solve that mystery.

He already knew who he would send…

A smile came on his sharp face. With luck it could even give him some insight in d'Arcy's plans abroad. It would be a happy change.

A knock on the door stopped his thoughts.

Work had caught up!

* * *

Josephine Bonaparte was in her own right a very popular person.

Not in the common sense of the word but everybody knew that she existed and most important people in Paris knew that she was her husband's secret advisor. Meaning she was a person whose influence was acknowledged and sought after.

She knew what to do to be recognized by people who mattered but she was in no way interested in meddling with the lesser levels of humanity.

Not that she was arrogant or selfish but she had been born into the Gentry, had married into better Aristocracy and, thanks to her fine survival instinct and intelligent choice of lovers, had survived her husband's execution and soon be a part of the new ruling class in Paris. And now she was France's new Queen in everything but in title.

She was a shrewd political analyst and had a nose for reading people.

One hour's chat and she was, usually, able to determine what made a person tick.

After two hours of intense chatting and shopping with the Bennet sisters she was beginning to have a quite good picture of the people she was with.

One thing had been very easy to fathom: they weren't liberal females at all. Not in the sense that mattered in Paris. Clearly for them marital loyalty was a very central fact of life. All had frowned at the –slight- hints of extra marital love affairs she had gossiped about in relation with ladies encountered and she had soon dropped that very sensitive topic to concentrate on more mundane matters. Like studying the Bennets.

Of course she had made great efforts to know better d'Arcy's wife.

Jane d'Arcy was easy going and open. And she was kind, kind with her, kind with her family and kind with strangers. For her there were evidently no class biases. People were people and all deserved her respect and sympathy. And she had that unsettling knack to be able reach out to people and make them feel comfortable. Soon Josephine had made out that it was very unnerving –and frustrating- to be in her company because she was within seconds at the center of everything. Not because she sought it but because people just placed her there.

It soon became obvious to her that Jane Darcy was an alien –or a relict- in terms of high class spouses. She was in love with her husband without being completely dazzled by him. She had –strong- opinions about quite a lot of political delicate subjects but was able to convey them in a very soft and diplomatic way. But there was steel in her eyes when she had to admit that her opinion and that of her counterpart were going to clash. She would note the other's position and graciously link the talk on other less lethal subjects.

All in all Josephine was impressed. D'Arcy had really found a beautiful, kind and loving wife who, and she had witnessed it in every shop they visited, could in seconds fill a room with her gentle presence. She had heard rumors that Mrs. d'Arcy had stood up before angry mobs and had been able to deflate the situation in seconds.

She no longer doubted her reports. That woman was probably able to do just that. And the crowd had probably ended sheering her.

Thanks to God there was not a hint of wicked ambition in her because behind all that gentleness crouched a very able mind that was probably even better suited than hers to understand what people were looking for when coming to her.

Josephine, after two hours, had no illusion left that her counterpart knew exactly her real reasons to be at her side. She was playing the guide and introducing her to the best cloth makers in Paris for reasons of her own and Jane d'Arcy had –once even literally- acknowledged them as legitimate.

There was a new understanding there, understanding which had entirely changed Josephine's strategy about d'Arcy's spouse. She could no longer hope to overwhelm the 'country girl' with her 'exotic liberated female' aura. But Jane d'Arcy had conveyed a few discreet messages that even if she didn't share her counterpart's tactics to come to power, she was no dogmatic opponent to them.

It was soon very clear in Josephine's mind that Mrs. d'Arcy was a reckless defender of the right for females to follow independent and creative ways in life but she worked for them in her own subdued way.

_Like a glacier slowly grinding rocks to powder_…

Soon it was clear to Josephine that Mrs. d'Arcy was a force to be reckoned with and an ally to nurture. They had acknowledged each other's strengths and were using a very natural 'tu' when their shopping expedition came to an end.

Mrs. Darcy had been easier to understand. She was as smart and independent as her sister but there was a volcano hidden somewhere behind her striking eyes. There stood a woman who would rise to any challenge showing up. A fighter in her own right she was probably her sister's most loyal supporter and ally. There was no doubt at all that they were very close and that they shared common ideals. This didn't exclude that Mrs. Darcy was a dedicated and staunch follower of her husband. And soon as it had been possible without being impolite she had made it clear that said husband shouldn't be considered as a negligible player in the game that was going to be played in the afternoon. Since she had a finely honed sense of humor which was very close to Josephine's in the sarcastic way of the genre they had found quite a lot reasons to laugh together.

Miss Bennet was still an enigma for her at the end of the day. Clearly there was a mind behind those brown sparkling eyes. A mind that reminded Josephine of her husband's. Miss Bennet saw and analyzed everything while hiding behind the very inconspicuous behavior of an awed younger sister.

Being an unmarried daughter she couldn't enter the conversations like her two elder sisters but Josephine was sure that not a word that had been exchanged hadn't been weighted and examined by her. She would probably share her conclusions with the other Bennets as soon as they were alone.

The youngest Bennet had been very cowed and Josephine hadn't noticed her at all. She seemed well behaved and discreet even if, from time to time, she dared a few words in answer to a question their host had asked.

At the trip's end all participants had a lot more fancy beautiful dresses and a working knowledge of each other.

All in all it had been a very useful afternoon.


	41. Think tanks

**Chapter forty one: Paris think tanks**

* * *

**Paris, Thursday the 18****th**** October **

* * *

Geoffrey had asked them to come and here they were comfortably ensconced in d'Arcy's very private study. Hadn't they been coached to get here they wouldn't have guessed that such a room even existed at this level of the house. It had a very low ceiling and not much in ways of natural lighting but without knowing the way to come in they would have spent hours to find it.

They sat in well holstered armchairs and tea, coffee and port wine had been prepared by d'Arcy's batman.

Now they were alone and waiting.

"What do you think he wants?" asked Mr. Bennet who had none of his son in law's patience.

"I think he'll finally come out with his famous surprise…" answered Darcy. "Lizzie told me that Napoleon was here a good part of the night and that d'Arcy was quite satisfied with himself this morning. I reckon he got from Napoleon the agreement he needed…"

"Indeed I did…" said a d'Arcy they hadn't heard coming in. "And we're here in order to prepare the family to the incoming changes England will have to weather in the two next years…"

"What sort of changes?" asked Darcy.

"Grand changes, I assure you. But the first and most important is that Napoleon accepted to set England free before the end of year 1802. Meanwhile the English people will be free to think out what this new England is going to look like!"

Mr. Bennet shot a doubtful glance at d'Arcy.

"And Napoleon accepted just so?"

D'Arcy snickered.

"Of course not! It did cost England a lot but I do believe the price was more than reasonable in comparison with what was gained."

Fitzwilliam nodded lengthily before frowning.

"I suppose this information is confidential?"

D'Arcy nodded while pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Indeed, not a word to anyone, not even your wives or daughters before King George and Napoleon have officially signed the peace treaty."

"King George?"

"He has been in my custody for the last weeks. He is in France with his son George and they have both negotiated the treaty with me. It had been written by the King's hand himself in order to endorse the genuineness of the document." D'Arcy smiled.

"They had even enough time to provide two English originals and two French translations. Nobody will be able to deny their majesty's involvement in the negotiations."

"Some will attack the treaty by arguing that the King was under influence!"

D'Arcy agreed.

"Of course there will be but in the end what should be done is argue that _I_ was under his influence. In the short term France lost much more than Great Britain."

Mr. Bennet coughed and looked at his eldest son in law.

"Let's stop conjecturing here: It is of no use as long as we don't know what exactly George had accepted to let go to get England back."

"We get back all former French colonies seized by England or the British Crown including Jersey and Guernesey!"

Fitzwilliam was half up and frowning.

"They were never French colonies! They are part of the heirloom of the Duke of Normandy…"

"Which should be me since I'm the last heir of Wilhelm the Conqueror" said d'Arcy with a smile.

That stopped Fitzwilliam in his tracks.

"That's quite astounding news. You have proof?"

"Of course I have and before you say something you would regret it isn't faked and can be correlated by any independent researcher anyone would send on my genealogic path. Just ask Aunt Catherine; she did just that to prove that I'm not a real d'Arcy! Guess what she found out?"

Fitzwilliam sat back, looked at his father and they both pondered what had just been disclosed.

"But there is the problem of the Hanoverian dynasty… They inherited the first King's possessions."

"Yes but along with the signature of the treaty they both renounce to all Rights on the throne of England. Officially they'll argue that since there is no known heir to both of them they accept the judgment of History and throw in the towel. It is specifically written in the treaty as is their will to charge the people of England to decide what England will look like in the future."

Mr. Bennet couldn't help but laugh aloud.

"Indeed for a surprise this is a surprise!"

Fitzwilliam didn't answer or comment. He needed time to grasp all the consequences of d'Arcy's disclosure.

England would soon be a free country and he had sworn that should England come back he would do his upmost to bring Wales back into the common mold.

But it was clearly possible that England also changed as a regime. The people could decide to create a Republic or to come back to a Monarchy.

The people…

"What do you mean by people?" said he finally when the concept took hold of his mind.

"The treaty says the people…" answered d'Arcy. "You should ask George what he really meant with this concept." D'Arcy's smile broadened.

"A very up to date concept don't you think?"

"It's an open door to anarchy" grumbled Darcy. "We must reduce the concept to the Parliament…"

"Must we?" asked Mr. Bennet. "Why?"

Fitzwilliam shot an amazed glance at his father in law.

"Because the common people have no idea what's good for them! They lack all political understanding…"

Mr. Bennet leaned forward.

"You can't defend both sides, Fitzwilliam! You can't for once say that they haven't enough political education and defend a system which is, at the root, responsible for their lack of education! If they understand nothing –and I'm not so sure even that is true- it's because the ruling class –our class- has maintained them in ignorance and illiteracy! We could have used a part of our riches to bolster public schools and private initiatives to give them an entry to knowledge! Did we do it? No! And you know perfectly why we didn't, Fitzwilliam, isn't it?"

Fitzwilliam frowned and finally swore at d'Arcy.

"You'll bring chaos to our Country in no time with that treaty…"

D'Arcy tsktsked sarcastically.

"I didn't sponsor this treaty because I love England's ruling class, brother! I sponsored it because my wife was being unhappy with the fact that her Country was under French rule! So I did what had to be done to provide her with a free England!" He shrugged. "But of course in order to get Napoleon's agreement I had to bring something revolutionary in the bargain. And the departure of the present dynasty and the mandate given to the English people to create a new regime did find Napoleon's approval!"

He shook his head.

"But I have no intention to decide for England's people how they want to be ruled tomorrow! I won't even intervene if your so-called gentlemen decide to seize power and ignore the words of the treaty to sponsor their own wealth and power lust." He shook his head. "It's up to you, brother. You and your brethren will have the means to smother all potentialities of the treaty to recreate a mirror image of what was three months ago. But don't forget that, meanwhile, the English people will have had a taste of something different… Not sure they agree to forget it without reacting!"

"As I said" shouted Fitzwilliam; "you are pushing England into Chaos and Civil war…"

"That's enough, Fitzwilliam" interrupted Mr. Bennet. "Please stop thinking with your prejudices and begin using your brain. What will happen in England is in fact nothing but a repetition of what is happening just now in Wales! It is up to us to delay Anarchy and Chaos because, with the Welsh experiment you have begun, you could have done the worst of the work already!"

That stopped Fitzwilliam's outburst and he shot a suspicious glance at d'Arcy who answered with a satisfied smile.

"Of course I knew it would happen" said d'Arcy. "That's why I pushed the Welsh to choose you as their King and that's what I'm, in the end, preparing. You'll be a great King of England…"

Fitzwilliam's face lost all color and Mr. Bennet was soon at his son in law's side.

"Don't let him get at you, Fitzwilliam! He's holding your leg; it was never his plan…"

"But it could nevertheless become mine" said d'Arcy while moving his eyebrows up and down. "I'm nothing if not adaptable! It has a nice ring William the fourth King of Great Britain…"

Fitzwilliam pointed at d'Arcy.

"Why not you? You are William the conqueror's last heir, aren't you. Go and take your ancestor's throne back and leave me alone!"

D'Arcy shook his head and made a face.

"Be serious, Fitzwilliam! I'm perhaps William's heir but I'm also marked as a man of Napoleon. The English might like me for what I provided them but never will they give me the Crown. I'm just too French yet…"

Fitzwilliam looked at his farther in law and got a headshake as answer.

"He's right, he will probably be the most popular man in England for the next hundred years but giving him the Crown would be as giving it back to Napoleon."

He made a little sorry face.

"You're a much better candidate…"

"I don't want to be a candidate" shouted Darcy.

He pointed a vengeful finger at d'Arcy.

"He can say what he wants it was him who manipulated the Welsh to think of me and now he is manipulating you to convince me that I'm a good choice…"

"That's only because you're a good choice" added d'Arcy while Mr. Bennet shot him an angry look.

"No I'm not! Nothing has prepared me to become King…"

"But everything in your education and upbringing has prepared you to become a high stake manager" countered Mr. Bennet just before stopping.

"We already had that conversation to convince you to accept the Welsh throne! The situation is just the same just on an even grander scale! And we already agreed that scale was not important, only know-how. And you have the know-how, you already accepted that truth!"

"And soon you'll be a personal friend of Napoleon and Alexander" whispered d'Arcy. "What better back ground for an English future King…"

Mr. Bennet could just grab Fitzwilliam jacket to stop him jumping his French son in law.

Who didn't make even a gesture to move out of Fitzwilliam's way.

This, of course, amplified Fitzwilliam's anger…

"Fitzwilliam, please" urged Mr. Bennet. "It's too late to change anything. He has placed everything on the board and we cannot budge now. Whatever happens in the future you have already duties toward your Welsh people. You need, _for them_ to be seen as a friend and equal of Napoleon and Alexander…"

He sighed and shook his head while looking at d'Arcy.

"And even if it grates me to have been manipulated like that, just look at it from the bright side… Who in his right mind would be upset because his brother manipulated him and the world in order to make him the next King of Great Britain?"

Fitzwilliam could only howl his frustration to the sky.

* * *

Napoleon was scribbling on one of the numerous reports his desk was collecting.

"Glad to have you back, Géraud. I missed you…"

He pointed toward a pile.

"Those are your reports. They are exhaustive and accurate. Thanks my friend."

"It wasn't difficult boss, he made no effort to hide anything military from me…"

Napoleon smiled and nodded.

"You're right to add 'military' in your comment. Because he did hide things from you."

"He's a schemer of unknown proportions Boss. Nobody will ever be able to know everything he is preparing. I couldn't, sorry."

"It's not a problem, Géraud, I have other spies and last night he confessed everything to me and when I recall his words I'm quite unable to control my wish to laugh out aloud for the next three hours… You're right when you say he's a schemer of unknown proportions. You know that I don't like to project myself in the future! I prefer living the present to prepare the future. But in this very case I'm impatient to be witness to what will happen. Really impatient."

He looked at his friend and shook his head.

"And no, I won't tell. It will remain my and d'Arcy's secret. And soon you'll understand that it would have been cruel to speak of it…"

He put his feather down and stood up to join Duroc at his guest table.

"We have to speak about the armies, Géraud. Are they ready to obey me? Will I have problems to get them back under my rule?"

Duroc made a face.

"You might have problems if d'Arcy's not in tune with you. They had three very satisfying months. And they believe –rightly so- that if was all d'Arcy's doing. We captured two enemy countries with no more than a thousand casualties. Most of them non-lethal. That counts for a lot in soldiers' minds."

Duroc smiled at his First Consul.

"And those last weeks in Ireland had been more like a holiday for them. Never ever have soldiers be welcomed more heartily by a local population. We will probably lose a few hundreds… Some welcomes were more fiery than most!"

Napoleon made a dismissing gesture and smiled. Which was a very sure sign that he was very satisfied with himself and the world.

"Give them the freedom to leave even if their contract is still up. I don't want to be faced with deserters. Grant all who ask a two years leave with the possibility to come back later. I'm quite sure most will be back in the army within the next year. Let them hear from our new military successes and they won't resist to the pull of glory."

Duroc leaned forward and looked his boss in the eyes.

"So we go to war next spring?"

Napoleon shook his head.

"No, Géraud. We go to war next February. Dare to guess where we'll strike?"

"The Ottoman Empire!"

Napoleon tilted his head to the side.

"Where would you strike?"

"I would follow d'Arcy's Ireland example. I would let everybody know that my troops are going to Syria and disembark them at mid-way in Greece. I'm quite sure the Sultan would be more than surprised…"

Napoleon nodded approvingly.

"It would give us the first strike and the initiative of the campaign…"

"Not to speak about the support of the Greeks. We have shown in Egypt that we respect their orthodox faith. With us they are on safe ground. Not so with Alexander…" Duroc stifled a laugh. "And if you give the overall command to d'Arcy you could always plead that you have been surprised like everybody else about his change of plans…"

"Good thinking, Géraud, but this campaign will be mine. Not d'Arcy's. It is time I show my soldiers that I'm still in d'Arcy's league. I love his style but time has come to take the reign of the armies back into my hands."

He made a placating gesture.

"We spoke and he agreed with my decision. Next February his presence in England will still be necessary and he'll have another task to perform for me. His time as my main strategist is, for the next months over…"

Duroc shook his head.

"He wants to be with his wife when she gives birth to his child, that's the whole truth of this task. And I can understand his wish…"

Napoleon didn't agree.

"I can't deny that it played a role in his acceptation but it is not the main reason for his staying in England, I give you my word about it!"

"You're the Boss, remember? No need to give me justifications. Just give me a few hints about what I'll do at that time."

"You'll stay with d'Arcy for a few more months. He'll have two armies stationed in England and I want you to be the overall commander of the troops. As said d'Arcy will have another nonmilitary task to perform for me. " He chuckled and shook his head. "Really I'm impatient to see the results…"

He taped Duroc on the shoulder.

"In the end you'll join in laughing like mad, Géraud, you'll see!"

Duroc agreed.

"Hopefully you're right Boss! It would be a welcome change from blood and tear."

Napoleon only nodded and looked at the clock.

"We have a few minutes left, Géraud. Something else?"

Duroc nodded.

"I have a personal question, Boss. A question about marriage."

Napoleon frowned and leaned back in his chair.

"Emilie wants me to remarry and she has already chosen my future wife."

Napoleon couldn't hide a smile.

Duroc could be very thorough on any military question but personal questions were always speedily put out of the way.

"Do you like her?"

"More than I swore myself doing again. She's pretty, very smart, has quite a nice dowry and is Emilie's absolute favorite in life. It would be a good match."

Napoleon nodded. He liked Duroc quite a lot, had this woman had had nothing he would have provided her a decent dowry.

"And who's this fortunate woman?"

"The third Bennet daughter, Mary. She…"

He couldn't say a word more because hearing it Napoleon burst out laughing like mad.

After very long minutes and with tears still in his eyes Napoleon tapped his friend on the back.

"Go on Géraud, if you like her, go on… She's even a better match than you believe!" And soon he was back roaring with laughter!


	42. Royalities

**Chapter forty two: Paris **

* * *

**Paris, Thursday the 18****th**** October **

* * *

"Mr. Darcy."

"Mr. Romanov."

For a second there was a weighty silence and both men looked each other in the eyes…

"Glad to meet you" added the Czar while a smile was appearing on his lips.

"I'm honored, Sir." answered Darcy with a smile of his own. "If it isn't too late, Condolences for you loss and congratulations for your Coronation, your Majesty."

"And congratulations for yours, too, your Majesty. It's not every days that Europe sees a new dynasty coming to power."

Both bowed and his smile became more mischievous.

"I would have preferred to stay outside of that prestigious club but some people," he darted a look at Lizzie, "were of the opinion that my modesty was out of place."

Alexander bowed toward Lizzie and shot her a roguish glance.

"It is always a good idea to listen to one's consort, my friend… Not listening having, from time to time, disastrous consequences."

Darcy acknowledged the Czar's remark and turned toward Lizzie.

"May I introduce you to my wife Elizabeth, your Majesty?"

"You may, I'm always happy to notice that Europe's Elizabeths are among the most beautiful creatures God has places on earth to our satisfaction."

He turned toward his own wife and presented her to the Welsh royal couple.

"My own beautiful Elizabeth" said he while kissing her hand.

Both women made the little head bow protocol asked royalty to give to each other and soon were talking together.

After a moment and with Darcy' discreet nod both Elizabeths were steering away toward Lizzie's elder sister letting both their royal husbands alone.

"I'm a bit of a newcomer in that job" said Darcy with a smile, "and I'm quite unsure how to address a fellow ruler in his presence."

Alexander laughed at the remark.

"Yes I admit it's easier to speak of other monarchs when they are absent. We do have quite a lot of bird names to choose of, don't we?"

Darcy acknowledged Alexander's_ bon mot_.

"Indeed but what do I say in his presence?"

"Let's try Alexander?"

Darcy nodded and bowed.

"It would be an honor" he looked around them. "But an official and grandiose gathering like this one, is perhaps not the best place to show so much familiarity. You're free to call me Fitzwilliam as often as you want while with a restricted audience, but here I fear it would look 'boorish'."

This time Alexander roared aloud.

"And what, Fitzwilliam? Everybody knows that Russia's the most boorish place on earth! Let's not become too civilized too fast, alright?"

Darcy followed the Czar's example.

"I agree, Alexander. It is a fact that Wales is and has always been the most backward part of the British Isles… It shouldn't shock too many people that we share a liking for a good laugh."

"Perfect, Fitzwilliam, perfect… Let's go annoy all those civilized Frenchmen with our boorish manners."

* * *

"Please in the future, avoid curtsying, _madame_ d'Arcy. I know since you're no Royalty the protocol asked for it but I'd consider it a personal favor not to be treated with so much distance." said Elizabeth Alexeievna after having been presented to Jane.

"Thanks for the great honor, your Majesty… But as you stated it protocol is a harsh master and, while in an official gathering like this one, I won't take the risk to convey a false impression about the way I consider you. You are the Czar's consort and as such it's my duty to let everybody know that I'm conscious of your rank and recognizing it. "

She shot one of her most radiant smile to the young –she was exactly Lizzie's age- queens facing her.

"As you've seen I curtsied to the King of Wales' consort even if she is my beloved and tolerant sister. It doesn't lessen my affection for her while it boosts her authority." She shook her head and leaned forward whispering. "And as you well know, we women can't afford to waste what little authority our Masters let us wield."

Elizabeth Alexeievna nodded before answering in the same tone.

"I've heard of your fight for female equality, _madame_, and I'm rather impressed."

Jane slipped between Lizzie and the Czarina and taking hold of their arms steered them toward a quieter place.

"I am not fighting in order to see women treated exactly as men are, your Majesty. I know quite well that we and the males of the race are different in many aspects and I'm expecting those differences to be taken into account and generate different behaviors from women and towards women. But there are matters where men and women are similar and where the society of men treats us as we were sub human beings. It is against those prejudices that I'm on crusade against… We just founded a."

* * *

"Look at our daughters, Mr. Bennet… Just look at them. Do you recognize the Bennets from Hertfordshire?"

Edward Bennet smiled and kissed his wife's hand.

"Of course I do, Mrs. Bennet. Those are the butterflies which slipped out of the caterpillars' cocoons. Who ever said that coming out of those restricting binds was an easy affair?"

He nodded.

"But clearly it was worth it."

"That it was" agreed Mrs. Bennet.

She looked around the great hall of the Louvre Palace and soon saw Napoleon.

"It's amazing how much space so little a man can occupy."

It was Mr. Bennet's turn to nod.

"Indeed. He is even more impressive than Geoffrey. He's not brawny, he's not tall… He's even on the paunchy side of men and he still is larger than life and emerging out of the crowd like a beacon. No more need to explain why he had so much success. You can't just ignore him."

"And his compliments were well tuned and adequate" crooned his wife who had fallen under Napoleon's Latin charm.

"He congratulated you for your daughters' beauty, dear. He chose a winning strategy."

"He was even more subtle than that, dear. I liked it very much when he said that with me there was evident proof that beauty does never vanish completely." She snorted. "Wouldn't be you to find such an elegant compliment."

Mr. Bennet snickered.

"That's where you see the difference between a poor English gentleman farmer and a famous Latin Consul. He has a way with words and I have the lady at my arm."

That granted him a smile and a tap on the shoulder.

"You could try and make a few compliments, from time to time… It bolsters a lady's confidence!"

"I surely could but we poor English gentleman farmer are a little too befuddled intellectually to dare enter into these lofty literary heights. We prefer more concrete deeds. Five beautiful and smart daughters that's the way we show to the world the admiration we feel for the Lady of our heart."

* * *

"Will there be a dance?"

Mary shrugged while holding Emilie who was standing on a balustrade overseeing the whole gathering.

"I don't think so; it's not a ball after all but a State Reception to honor the visiting Heads of State. Most people are here to show themselves and to be seen."

"Even the Kings and Consuls?"

"Even the Kings, Dukes and Consuls." agreed Mary. "Even they need to project an image to their subjects and rivals. It's a game of predominance. Look at Napoleon. He's just wearing his red frock and a few decorations but it is as if he had an inner lighting to signal his presence. You see it?"

"Yes" whispered Emilie. "He's really shining of a sort."

"That's what you call charisma. Your Papa has it also but he's confining it to the fields where he is at ease. Here he is rather awkward don't you agree?"

"Indeed" frowned Emilie. "He's not his normal self. It's as if he had sniff out his inner light."

"That's exactly what he is doing, dear. He doesn't like what he is forced to do this evening so he does everything in his power to disappear in the crowd."

Mary snickered.

"But he isn't alone in this case… Shall we play a game?"

"Of course" answered Emilie with a smile.

"Let's find who wants to be seen and who wants to be unnoticeable apart from your Papa and me."

* * *

Lydia had never been shy and she'd decided that it wouldn't be tonight that she would begin.

So she floated from group to group playing the perfect young lady, not too shy and not too bold just open enough to be welcomed and pondered enough to be accepted and admired.

Soon she was probably the best known Bennet of the gathering and the image she was presenting of herself was that of a younger sister who was well educated and welcoming.

Those past two hours she had spoken with dozens of young men and quite a lot more young ladies. Her journey could have been analyzed as erratic and in a certain sense it was but in fact what she really was doing was 'scouting' the land.

Marrying was no longer her immediate prospect but she just couldn't let pass such a marvelous opportunity! Using such a concentration of aristocracy and wealth to get a real feel of the people behind all those names she had studied these last weeks was too strong an urge not to follow.

She was just in between such a change when she detected a pair of dark blue eyes looking at her.

She looked back and was rather satisfied that the dark blue eyes were belonging to a rather striking tall young man who was trying to look somewhere else as soon as he had noticed her interest.

From his uniform she concluded that he was belonging to the Czar's suite and was probably one of those rumored Cossacks whole Paris was speaking of.

Well perhaps not whole Paris but the little part of Paris who wasn't gossiping about Jane.

She decided to let her mind be changed and to launch an attack against the Russian vanguard.

She cruised in his direction and when he had no other choice but to acknowledge that she was coming toward him he let a smile lighten his face and bowed in her direction.

She made her most gracious curtsy and flashed him her best 'Adventurous Lizzie' smile.

He claped his heels together and bowed once more.

"Willhelm von Hohenzollern, at your service, Miss."

She curtsied in response and answered to the unasked question…

"Miss Lydia Bennet, Sir. It is a pleasure."

He smiled.

"The pleasure is for me and I'm quite satisfied I could draw the attention of such a pretty young lady."

"I wouldn't have dared to come at you so boldly if you hadn't already been scrutinizing me, Sir!"

She felt that he was going to apologize when she topped him with a little head shake.

"Please, don't'! It is always welcome coming from such a dashing young officer!"

He acknowledged the compliment with another bow.

Lydia took advantage of the little loll in the conversation to study her new counterpart.

Dashing he was indeed and if she wasn't misled a Prince of Royal blood of his own.

"You said 'Wilhelm von Hohenzollern', would you be the younger brother of the King of Prussia?"

"Indeed I am, Miss Lydia."

Lydia looked around them.

"I wasn't aware the King of Prussia would be here… It seems some of the needed information wasn't dispatched correctly!"

The prince smiled at her subtle attempt.

"He isn't and neither should I, Miss Lydia. I'm incognito and I'm Prussia's man in the Czar's retinue. I'm here to get a feeling of Napoleon, d'Arcy and all those new rulers who seem to blossom in Europe at the beginning of this new century. I would be glad if nobody else would get wind of my presence here."

Lydia giggled discreetly.

"I'll swear secrecy" whispered she. "But I must warn you, I'm quite sure my brother d'Arcy has already been informed of your spying activities. He has a monstrously efficient spy ring around him."

She leaned forward and whispered in an even lower tone.

"If you are ready to take a risk, I'll help you to get the proof that he already knows."

"Why would I want to have said proof?" whispered he back.

"In order to stop playing the spy and beginning to enjoy your stay in Paris… If you're no longer forced to hide in the shadow and climb bare walls, I could try and invite you one of those days to a dinner with the Bennet tribe… I'm sure they'd appreciate it as much as you."

He winked at her.

"Well if it is to get a chance to dine with the whole Bennet tribe, let's go get that proof! But if he doesn't seem to know me I'm back in my shadows immediately!'

"So be it."

* * *

"Geoffrey?"

D'Arcy made an apologetic gesture toward his current partner and turned toward his sister in law.

"Yes Miss Lydia? What can I do for you?"

She smiled and pointed toward the young officer who was at her side.

"I was wondering if you had already encountered my friend here."

D'arcy looked at the young officer and bowed the bow he reserved to important people.

"I haven't had the pleasure to meet his highness in person. I knew his brother had sent him to Paris in a scouting mission but no more."

He looked Lydia's escort in the eyes.

"Congratulation for your new rank, general, it must be a great honor to be the commander in chief of your brother's guard."

"It is" admitted the young Prince. "I'm not sure it is a good idea but my brother was adamant."

"It is always better to have family at key role jobs, general. Family is not always safe and sure but it is always better than to have to trust strangers."

Lydia made a little gesture and d'Arcy smiled at her.

"I was wondering if we could perhaps invite his highness while we are in Paris."

D'Arcy bowed at her.

"It will be my pleasure to host his highness but please pardon me if I can't give a precise day for the invitation but I have not yet cleared all of my agenda with The First Consul. It could take a few days."

"I'm at your disposal, Sir" said the young Prince.

"Thanks, I'll send the invitation as soon as the schedule is closed."

He smiled at both before adding: "Don't worry I know about your whereabouts, you'll get my invitation in time" A last nod and he turned on his heels to join his former conversation.

"You were right" whispered the young Prince.

"He knows everything" whispered Lydia back. "It's rather amazing."

"So this is a general's uniform?" said she in a whispered tone while pulling him away.

"No it is not" answered the Prince. "Remember I'm here incognito. What use to pretend to be a lowly captain and wear a general's uniform?"

"Why pretend? You've seen it's of no use… Aren't you a little young to already be a general?"

"When nepotism comes into play there is no age limit."

"Hear, hear and on top of it all he is proud of it!"

"Why shouldn't I? I'm nevertheless a general!"

She snorted.

"Without any experience? What sort of general will you be?"

"A dashing one."


	43. Depression

**Chapter forty three: Dublin Depression**

* * *

**Dublin, Thursday the 18****th**** October **

* * *

"They grate on my nerves" hissed Charles. "I've never seen a more unruly mix of people. I'm sure that if somebody had asked about the form of the table before beginning the negotiations they would still fight over that idiotic point."

"Probably" agreed Kitty, "but they never were rumored to be particularly rule bound! If I remember well they fought quite a lot against each other before Cromwell decided to invade them."

"Well they just come out of a century of servility because of their incapacity to think as a Nation and they aren't free for a week and they make the same mistakes again."

"I like them" said Kitty. "They are unruly and love to fight with each other but there is life in their lives, and spring in their gait. England is too cool and too well ruled… Restrain and self-control are perfect qualities in mature or old people, but what a bore when you aren't mature or old." She breathed the cool air of Dublin's wet streets. "Here I feel young and alive. Here I feel as if I'm moving in between young and active people!"

"You have the soul of a rebel, Kitty" smiled Charles. "I wonder if it was really Lydia who put the trend in your little pair of silly rebellious girls."

"Since Lydia has shown such a boring and mercenary side, I wonder if you're not right to wonder." She took him by the hands and swirled around him. "Let's rebel, Charles! Let's rebel against boring England and lame Wales."

"I like it tame and predictable."

"Liar" shouted Kitty under the smiles of the many people who were witnessing her play. "You love parties and smiles and meeting new people. You're Irish in your soul and lame and tame bores you to death!"

He forced her to stop and took her in his embrace.

"You're not reasonable Miss Kitty" whispered he. "I promised your father to be the perfect gentleman. How do you believe I'm going to be able to be good if you go on behaving like that."

She winked at him.

"Who makes you believe _I _want you to behave?"

She laughed at his shock.

"No risk there, Charles. I promised Papa and I'll take my promise but that won't force me to behave lamely and tamely! I'll show you all the appropriate facets of Catherine Bennet and you'll decide in full knowledge of the facts if she's what you need in your future life!"

She picked his pocket watch and frowned.

"We are late… They will probably already have begun the next round of bickering and squabbling." She winked at him. "But they are alive and young."

She stuck her tongue at him, took his hand and pulled him toward the castle.

They soon were running and laughing at the same time.

* * *

"I have some results" said the priest Charles had hired to found out a little more about the Bingley's past. "No Bingley has ever been registered here in Dublin and none has in Londonderry or Belfast. As it looks like your father began to use your name only in England. So no help to be found with that research."

Charles couldn't help but sigh. He had known that with no hint about his father's real name the search would be difficult. But that didn't mean he wasn't disappointed.

"But we got more results with your father's birth date. It seems that he gave you the right data. There is a trace of a man born at that exact date who worked a few months in Londonderry before taking a ship to Glasgow. We have no description but we have a name and a county of origins."

Charles looked up eyes ablaze.

"What name and what origins?"

"The name's Biorna and the County he said he was from was Leitrim County… I have sent your request to a friend in Balinamallard. He'll look into it, I'm sure. He'll soon get results and you'll know more about your family."

"If he needs funds."

"The Church doesn't need more than your initial gift. And being a friend of monsieur d'Arcy we would have helped you even without. All Ireland is in debt toward him."

"I know but it is a private family thing… I couldn't not be paying for what you were doing for me."

"And we are, don't misunderstand us, very thankful for your monetary help but you must know that as of now you won't need another introduction than saying you're his friend, it will open all Irish doors for you."

* * *

"Are you, Charles?"

He looked up and smiled at Kitty.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you Geoffrey's friend, Charles?"

Charles sighed.

"No I'm not!" said he with great honesty. "And I'll probably never be. It still hurts me how he took Jane away!"

Kitty came along and sat in front of him.

"He didn't take her away, Charles. He courted her and seduced her and convinced her but he didn't take her away. She was still to be conquered by you! And if you hadn't felt so awfully guilty and ashamed you would probably have felt that she was still ready to be your wife."

He nodded.

"I know, Kitty. I really know that it was all my fault but that changes nothing at the jealousy and envy which is festering in my heart each time I think of him and his successes. Each time I think of her being with him."

It was Kitty's turn to sigh.

She had had no doubt that conquering Charles Bingley wouldn't be an easy undertaking. He was the most sensitive male she had ever encountered and she loved him very much for all his wonderful qualities. But he was also a very injured man who could scratch his old closed wounds open just because he felt like doing it.

"Let's agree that he is the better man" said Kitty.

He looked up and frowned.

"You don't agree?" asked Kitty. "Why? All you say each time you speak of him comes down to exactly that! In a comparison you're always behind him! He's taller, brawnier, smarter, more successful and more famous and richer than you. There is not a single spot where you feel yourself even his equal. Don't we agree?"

Charles shook his head and made a face.

"The way you describe it I'm a total loser!"

"It's not the way I describe it, it's the way you show yourself, Charles. Don't forget I do know him. I've seen him work and command and negotiate. I've seen him laugh like a young boy when my sister winks at him. I've seen him dance under the rain with a roaring Jane in his arms… I've seen the real d'Arcy, Charles. The man whose smile can be so charming that girls and women swoon just by imagining his smile could be for them!"

"Do you swoon when he smiles at you?"

"Never" answered Kitty. "My heart belongs to another man. A man whose smile and laugh and sparkling eyes are enough to make me swoon! A man I have seen work and command and negotiate. A man I've seen dance and smile and laugh and lighting a room with his gentleness and wit… A man who's not behind my sister's husband but somewhere else where d'Arcy will never be able to go."

She stood up placed her hand on his and forced him to look at her.

"Stop competing with him. Remember what you told to me about my competition with my sisters. There is no longer any competition in that field, Charles. What you were competing for is no longer available. And with her being his wife he is no longer even a competitor. That game is over, Charles and you are the only one who still believes it alive!"

* * *

"What is it Mr. Bingley? You look more than upset."

Bingley snorted without acknowledging the Castle's vicar.

"I'm a fool, father. I know it, I know why and I have everything I need to slip my head out of the noose but I just go on being a fool."

The vicar sat somewhere behind him. After a few seconds he made an acknowledging noise.

"We are all fools, Mr. Bingley. God gave us life and parents and a wonderful earth where everything He made is beautiful and sacred and we spend our time lusting after things we can't have. And despairing because we are unable to get them."

He sighed.

"What is it you lust after you cannot get, Mr. Bingley?"

"Another man's wife, father. As you see I'm a very foolish fool."

"Do you try to convince her to betray her husband Mr. Bingley?"

"No" admitted Bingley. "I would do if there was even a little chance but I'm like a lowly worm when compared to him that I know there will never be another chance for me."

"Another chance, my son… You tried already?"

"She wasn't married, then and she was in love with me and I let myself be convinced that she wasn't. I left her and He came by and seduced her."

"Did he court her?"

"The moment he saw her."

"You say he seduced her… Did he do it in order to force her into the links of matrimony?"

"He didn't seduce her in the sense you seem to imply and he forced her into nothing."

"So he just did what you are wishing you would have done." whispered the Vicar. "You are indeed a very foolish fool Mr. Bingley. You are not lusting after another's wife, you are lusting after a way to undo what has already been done!"

He muttered a few words like he would be praying.

"God probably could, I'm not sure about it. But I'm absolutely sure nobody on this earth is able to undo what has already happened. Your past behavior is your past behavior and you won't be able to change it ever. And hoping to twist the consequences of said behavior is a fool's errand."

"Then what am I to do, father?"

"Is there in your past only behaviors you are ashamed of?"

"Of course not." said Charles a little heatedly.

"So it isn't your whole past you wish to undo. Do you believe that you could undo only the little part that hurts you or would it have other consequences on other things you've done?"

Charles looked up and turned to look at the Vicar. He only saw a shadow.

"I don't know. It was a part of what I was; it would probably have other consequences."

"Well Mr. Bingley, I won't have any revelation for you. What you did gave another man the chance to court and to marry the woman you left. Since you yourself exclude that you have a chance to win her back she probably found happiness with her new partner. So, when we speak of consequences the only sure thing we can deduce is that your actions had favorable consequences for the woman you love and unfavorable consequences for you. Do we agree?"

"We agree."

"So the woman you love is happy now but since she is with another man than you you're unhappy. Do we still agree?"

Charles nodded without speaking.

"Are you sure you would have made her as happy as she is? Happier perhaps?"

"Of c…" Charles stopped himself. _Was he_?

He forced himself to think. Would he have made her happy? Yes… He was sure of it. Happier than she was right now? Probably not. He had been with her and she was no longer the shy cool woman he had been in love with. She was a different person. A woman with a goal, perhaps even a woman with a deed…

"Probably not happier" conceded he after a long time. "I would have made her happy but it would have been different."

"Are you able to put yourself in her place and imagine her life with you compared with her life with that man?"

Charles made a mitigating gesture.

"Perhaps."

"So let's ask the fundamental question: since she has a happy life, would her life have been richer with you?"

Charles felt a shudder running down his back.

He knew the answer and there was no doubt that d'Arcy was giving Jane a much more original and fuller life than he could ever have done.

"No" said he after a very long moment. "The life she would have had with me would have been a much sedater and tamer life."

The vicar nodded.

"What about her husband, Mr. Bingley. Do you know him?"

Bingley nodded.

"Would you say that this marriage has brought him at least satisfaction?"

"Of course it has" said Bingley forcibly. "Jane is an Angel no man would be unhappy at her side."

The vicar smiled at Bingley's outburst.

"So you do probably believe that he is happier at her side than he would have without her?"

Bingley sighed.

"I don't believe it, I know it. He said it numerous times."

"So that answers my last question for you Mr. Bingley. The woman you lost because of what you falsely believe your own lack of confidence, is, without a doubt even for you, making the man she married happy!" The vicar clearly moved his head to look at Bingley.

"In your opinion, is the happiness of this man a matter of importance for more people than himself and his direct family?"

Once more Charles could only nod.

"It clearly is, father. It is important for a huge number of people."

The vicar sighed and stood up.

"Now, Mr. Bingley, you have all the answers to stop being a fool. Ponder your own unhappiness against the happiness your decision bestowed upon others and wonder if wanting to undo what has been done is really the right thing to wish."

The vicar came and stood in front of him. He traced a cross in the air over the bowed head of Charles.

"Good luck and may God bless you as he blessed you when he pushed you into letting that woman and that man meet and find happiness together."


	44. Demand

**Chapter forty four: Paris Demand**

* * *

**Paris, Friday the 19****th**** October **

* * *

"A word, Mr. Bennet?"

"As much as you want, general" answered Edward Bennet with a smile. "Would it be that you want to speak to me about one of my daughters?"

"I do indeed, Sir."

"Let's go to the Master's study, my dear general. D'Arcy being out for business we shouldn't be disturbed for quite some time."

Duroc only nodded and followed Mr. Bennet to the great study d'Arcy used to receive common callers. Important ones never came to look upon that particular study.

They both sat fronting each other and Mr. Bennet invited Duroc to speak as soon as he was seated.

"I would like to speak with you about your daughter Mary, Sir."

Mr. Bennet nodded.

"So I was right twice, you wanted to speak about a daughter and I have guessed the said daughter correctly."

He crossed his fingers before his belly and leaned back a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Let's see what else I've guessed correctly."

"My daughter wages for weeks a campaign to convince me to ask your daughter to marry me."

He sighed.

"Her demands go against an oath I made the day I learned the death of my first wife." He saw Mr. Bennet open his mouth and stopped him with a very authoritative gesture. "But my daughter's demands do not go against my personal wishes. I like your daughter quite a lot and wouldn't I be such a coward I could probably confess that I feel more than a liking for your daughter. Be it as it is, for now, a liking is the most I'm allowing myself to admit… It could be that it isn't enough for you."

Mr. Bennet made a face more to apologize than to show worry.

"General." He stopped and looked at the man facing him. "I do remember that your forename is Géraud, am I right?"

Duroc nodded.

"Mine's Edward and feel free to use it when addressing me." He breathed lengthily. "Géraud, I have been in your company for quite a few weeks now and I've seen what fine sort of man you are. I've, in my time, been an officer and I must admit that I would have been thrilled to be under the command of a general like you. I like the man, I like the officer and, let's not beat around the brush, I like the idea of the son in law." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. "I've also seen the way your daughter was blossoming under my daughter's teachings and tutelage. Even better I've seen the way my daughter's mood was changing. I saw her going from aloof and boring to interested and congenial. From old she was possessed with that odd certainty that she would remain a spinster and she always acted accordingly. That changed in part with d'Arcy's arrival in the family, but it really changed with my daughter's new role as your daughter's friend. She suddenly asked Lizzie and Jane advice about dresses, ribbons and make-up powders." His smile increased. "And I'm quite sure that your daughter's attention was not what was sought after with these questions."

He smiled at his counterpart.

"So, to use your words, I have a liking for you my friend and if you're able to convince my daughter to agree to your daughter's matrimonial plot, you have my blessing!"

There was a smile in Duroc's eyes when he stood up.

"We'll see if I'm able to convince her, M... Edward. I suppose you'll know when I come to ask you for her hand."

Edward Bennet couldn't help but roar.

"I'll know it exactly one minute after she gave you her assent, Géraud. I live in a women's house, my friend, and if there's one thing that is absolutely certain in such an environment it's that news spread faster than anywhere else!"

* * *

"He just went into the study with Papa" said Lydia while closing the door where the sister meeting was to be held.

"So he'll ask, you're sure?" asked Jane.

"I'm sure" answered Mary. "Emilie came to warn me, an hour ago. She said he had that sparkle in the eyes that had always warned her about difficult decisions just made… And since he asked her if she was still decided to see him married there should be no doubt about the topic his decision was about!"

Jane smiled at her younger sister.

"Well, we will have to make a decision, then. We all agreed that we wanted Kitty to be the next but it seems that we will follow the most seemly order possible." She looked Mary into the eyes. "Are you ready, dear?"

Mary swallowed and tried to look tough.

"Not at all" answered she. "I'm more than scared, I'm terrorized. What if…"

"Stop it Mary" cut Lizzie. "You really don't need to be afraid. You're our sister and you deserve to be married even if you always pretended that you weren't interested. And Duroc is a real asset, would have been for any of us. He is kind, handsome and not too proud to listen to his daughter. So it is sure that he will also listen to his wife. He won't force himself on you; he'll wait and will show patience, we have no doubt about it… But he will also be in a hurry because Napoleon wants to launch his next campaign before next Spring. So it is possible that he asks for a marriage before Christmas. It is fast, perhaps too fast if you're not ready… And since you consider yourself no ready."

"I'm a coward that's all but I'll find the strength to go on." said Mary. "Geoffrey married you after twelve days, I should be able to endure a one month period, shouldn't I?"

Jane stood up and took her sister in her arms.

"Geoffrey's not a normal human being. During these twelve days he did things to conquer me I still don't really believe happened. I had no doubt that he wanted me! He said it, he showed it and he proclaimed it as often as possible. But you know now Duroc for more than a month and he never did anything to show, you or anybody else, that he was having feelings for you."

"He's deeply hurt inside, that's wh…." Tried Mary but was immediately stopped by Jane.

"No need to defend him, it wasn't a criticism. We all know his story and his personal loss was soul shattering for him. I would bet all of my famous pin money that without Emilie's nagging he would never have considered marrying again."

Mary had been tempted to defend Emilie. But then she stopped herself. It had been nagging. A loving and selfless nagging but a nagging nevertheless.

"It was my fault" said she finally and was immediately stopped by all her sisters.

"It was perhaps because of you but no fault of you at all!" said Lydia who had always been the fastest debater of the sisters. "It's because you're Emilie's ideal as a step mother, that's all… She couldn't not ask him to marry you. She's so happy when you're together that she just can't accept to drift back into that unhappy and hollow life she had while without you."

"But is his daughter's happiness enough to give _us_ happiness?" asked Mary.

"Is it enough for you?" asked Lizzie. "That is the only question you have to ask yourself. Will it make you happy to see Emilie happy while you are not really happy?"

Mary closed her eyes and looked into her soul as she had learned to do so many years ago when her mother's guilt and unhappiness has threatened to destroy her.

And what she saw gave her peace.

She knew that she would be fulfilled to be Emilie's source of happiness! And Emilie's happiness was, she had no doubt there, the key to Géraud's happiness. With both other members of her family happy she was sure that her satisfaction would soon blossom into a happiness of her own.

"I'll be happy, Jane, I'm sure of it. Géraud's too scared to be in love again that's all. So he refuses to even consider the possibility. But I know his soul and his soul smiles when he looks at me… It will take a few weeks or a few months but he will look at his own feelings differently once he's committed."

"Good" said Jane. "That important point being secured, let's go to the practicalities. Do you have questions you would like us to answer you? Questions regarding the married state of womanhood?"

Mary smiled shyly.

"There are indeed a few things which could calm a few inner tremors of mine."

She shot a sidelong glance at Lydia who as always didn't let it escape.

"Don't even try to bust me out! I'm here to help you and if doing so I can get a few useful information about what it means to be a married wife I'll be glad to enlarge my already large knowledge!"

Jane looked at her and frowned.

"You didn't come back to Maureen so don't try to make us believe that you're such a great specialist!"

Lydia shot a dark look at Maureen who, even if always present, took great pride to never give her opinion –she gave it later in private- when the sisters were together in one of their sister meeting.

"I'm not a great specialist but I'm an informed amateur and it would be silly from my dear and loving sisters not to help me to get the information I'm seeking! Who's better suited than loving and caring sisters to try and teach me what I have to know in order to escape risks and temptations?"

Jane and Lizzie exchanged a knowing –and happy- look. They had their little sister back. A tamer and smarter little sister but a little sister who was, once again, lively and bubbling with energy… And like of old trying to manipulate them!

"That Prussian Prince of you wouldn't be the main reason for your sudden will to get said information?"

Lydia made her best innocent maiden look in answer to Lizzie's question.

"Of course not! Ask Maureen I'm looking into that delicate problem for months now. Forewarned is forearmed even more so for an innocent girl like me… And Wilhelm is a dear but he's already lost his heart to a cousin of him. No risk for me there but he's great opportunity to get information about the Russian court." She giggled. "And he promised me to show off in his dashing general's uniform… It's all red, blue and gold." She looked at Jane. "Do you believe Geoffrey would consider organizing a ball? It had been so long since we had last the opportunity to make unlucky females jealous."

That killed definitively all moody feelings in the room.

* * *

He did come an hour later.

And he was his calm and level-headed usual self.

"Would you accept to walk with me in the garden, Miss Bennet? I'd like to have a private talk with you."

She sat up, put her book on the table and took the proposed arm.

Soon they were walking in the cool October sun.

"I suppose you already know why I'm here" said he finally.

"I'm not sure but Lydia saw you entering the great study with Papa. And since now you asked to speak to me I must confess that I'm thinking along certain paths Emilie was pointing at for quite a long time now."

He sighed.

"I will confess two things, Miss Bennet: I hesitated for a very long time because I was not sure about my motivations and I didn't hesitate because of you. Meaning I never had any doubt that you are a marvelous human being worth to be known and loved for all the best reasons." She felt herself blush because the compliment was indeed a real jewel in itself. "The reasons that made me hesitate are strictly in relation with my daughter. She's the apple of my eyes and I tend to let her manipulate me more than it is healthy for any father. So I spent those last months wondering if what I was feeling had been nurtured by your presence or by my daughter's insistence that you should be a greater part of our life."

He looked her in the eyes.

"I still have not found the answer but I've decided yesterday that that answer was really of no interest. What is important are the feelings I know I have for you. It doesn't matter if they were nurtured for one or another reason. What matters is their existence." He stopped, took both her hands in his and looked her in the eyes.

"My daughter loves you and had made it very clear to me that she would welcome you as a mother with not the least bad feeling." He smiled. "That would have been enough for me to marry any woman a few months ago. But meanwhile I discovered that the woman my daughter was loving was also fueling feelings in me and, very foolishly, it stopped me in my tracks when I should have acted."

He shook his head.

"It stopped me because I didn't want to hurt you. It would have been treason to marry you for the false reasons and to sacrifice your happiness on the altar of my daughter's whims. I know now that if my daughter's happiness is still at the center of what I decide, yours is of equal importance to me and I ask you to be very cautious before you answer my question."

She stopped his address with a finger on his lips.

"Don't fear anything. I have seen the result of your love and Emilie has convinced me long ago just by what she was that she had a marvelous human being as a father. And for quite a long time now I was fancying myself at what would be a life at the side of such a man."

He looked her in the eyes and slowly a smile painted itself on his lips.

"It won't be easy… I'll be away most of the time."

"I was ready for a life time of loneliness, I'm sure I'm able to cope with half time loneliness." Her smile answered to his. "And with Emilie I'm quite sure that I won't feel lonely for a second."

"She shouldn't stay an only child" said he in a whisper.

"I really hope so" whispered she back. "I'm rather prejudiced at the idea of daughters."

He snickered.

"Promise me that we'll try a son even if it goes against such an ingrained family tradition."

She winked at him.

"We'll see what can be done in that matter, general. It's really outside the Bennet specialty but I'm sure we should be able to do something in that direction. Jane is sure that she is pregnant with twins of both sexes. I'll look into her secret and reproduce it. We shouldn't have any problem with that."


	45. Discussions

**Chapter forty five: Paris Discussions**

* * *

**Paris, Friday the 19****th**** October **

* * *

"They say you're nuts." said Alexander.

"Most of the time I am" answered George the Third. "From time to time I'm lucid enough to waste everything my son's done while I was nuts."

"And he isn't joking" grumbled George the son. "In one hour lucidity he would be manipulated into undoing everything I fought days to put in place."

"Did d'Arcy manipulate you?"

Alexander had never seen nor the King nor the Crown Prince and he was here because Napoleon had asked him to witness the legality of d'Arcy's treaty.

For now he was less than impressed with both English rulers.

The King was formidable in his own right but he was the first to have warned him about what could happen in a matter of seconds.

"Of course he did" answered George the son. "We were his prisoners, we can hardly be considered as free willed rulers while in his custody."

"Did he dictate the terms of the treaty?"

"No he didn't" answered the King. "He said that he would accept the liberation of Mainland England if we came up with interesting propositions. This treaty is the result of our propositions. He didn't even discuss the results. The only thing he changed was the part about Jersey and Guernsey. Seems he considers them as family heirlooms."

"How so?"

"He's the last living heir to William the Conqueror" answered George the son. "He showed us quite a few documents in order to prove it so it's probably the truth."

Alexander couldn't help but laugh.

"Well he did his ancestor justice. He did conquer you in no time."

"Thanks for the compassion" grumbled the son. "We were betrayed by our navy who believed his sham about that Ireland Invasion."

"Which wasn't really a sham" smiled Alexander, "if I judge with the actual results."

"As said: thanks for the compassion!" insisted George the son. "The fact remains that he didn't force us to write this treaty. He gave us his part of the bargain and let us waddle in our own doubts to propose him something we believed he could accept."

"I see" said Alexander who couldn't help but profoundly admire d'Arcy. He would probably have obtained much less if he had negotiated. So he just indicated what he would be ready to give and went away…

He sighed.

"Napoleon was rather adamant with my mission here. If you consider that this treaty hasn't been rightfully negotiated he's ready to forget it."

"And remain in England I suppose." said the King.

"He didn't say as much but were I him I would remain and send my armies to deliver French Canada next year. I'd get everything this treaty provides France but the naval alliance… But I would keep the best economic infrastructure in Europe as my own! "

The Prince snorted.

"On whose side are you?"

"I'm strictly neutral, here. He wants me to sign the treaty as a witness of good faith. I'm here to see if d'Arcy forced you into proposing those terms. As I see it the only pressure he exhibited was by holding you prisoner which was his right since he captured you. For me this treaty is fully acceptable even if it goes very much in favor of Great Britain."

He shook his head and snickered.

"There were rumors about d'Arcy being besotted by his wife. I've seen her and I must recognize that she is probably the most beautiful woman I've ever seen but even for her I wouldn't let go of England… He clearly did choose to privilege her satisfaction to France's interest. Would I be in Napoleon's place I would rip those sheets apart and hang you and the rest of your family. But that's not what Napoleon asked me to do. He wants to know if the treaty wasn't extorted under duress and I'll answer him that in all honesty he's a fool to grant you so much."

"That's not very kind on your part." said the King.

"I'm the Czar and I have no business being kind. I'll be honest in what I'm dealing with. Your dynasty is clearly not worth a burglar's spit and England can only be better when rid of you."

He stood up.

"He seemed decided to grant d'Arcy's wish so I suppose you'll avoid the guillotine and will get some nice place to slowly disappear into oblivion while England's granted a second chance."

The King looked at his son and frowned at him. The prince nodded and made a hand gesture to get the Czar's interest.

"Would you be interested in buying some fine ships of the line?"

"Don't you dare" shouted the King. "You can't do that."

"You're still the King and every ship is his Majesty's. We're free to sell what's our own."

The Czar turned around, eyes sparkling with interest. He was perhaps about to get the navy Russia was longing for since Piotr Alekseievitch. And he would get it at a bargain price.

"With the crews?"

"Probably not" answered the Prince. "But then we would deliver and it's up to you to convince the officers to stay in your service. We wouldn't have a say in those matters and without ships to man they would be on half pay for the rest of their careers."

"How many would you sell?"

"I'd say we have to sell a hundred ships" answered the Prince. "The double and triple deckers are going to ruin us very soon if we keep them. Within a few months we'll have problems to maintain them. It's now or we'll have no other choice but to break them down."

"Which ships would you sell?" asked the Czar who was a fine connoisseur in British Naval engineering.

"The 'royal sovereign' and the 'royal George' would b..."

"Not the Royal George" shouted his father. "Out of the question."

"The 'Sandwich', the 'Blenhem', the 'Ocean' and the 'London'." went on the Prince and the Czar was soon unable to mask his satisfaction. He would barter like never. With luck he'd be able to buy the best ships of the Royal Navy for less than two million pounds… He was curious to see how many he would be able to get for his war chest.

* * *

"Well" asked Napoleon when he finally came back from his encounter with the King of what had been a few months ago the United Kingdom.

"I can't deny that they haven't been forced into anything. D'Arcy just gave them what he was ready to bargain off and the rest they came with without his interference."

"Even their abdication?"

Alexander couldn't help but laugh out.

"In my opinion they had only two choices, give up the throne and show themselves as smart Statesmen or try and hold at the power and be dismissed and expelled like thieves from what was left of their Empire." The Czar shook his head. "And they have no illusion about their image in England after having fled from England and tried to flee from Ireland. Having no direct heir helped in taking the right decision. In fact as it looks they would have lost the Throne a little later for want of a rightful heir… So they give themselves a great possibility of making themselves scarce while 'saving' Great Britain. It will probably help to soften the anger at home."

"So you'll be my witness?" insisted Napoleon.

"I'll be there and I'll sign the treaty!" He sighed and looked at Napoleon. "But in all honesty I don't understand why you sign it. I would have insisted in keeping England as a part of France. They win much more than you."

Napoleon gratified his counterpart with a little wicked smile.

"That's only because you've only seen what's written. As a matter of fact there's more in preparation than what meets the eye. I'm very confident that the new Dynasty will be very friendly to France and that the Kingdom of Great Britain will bring all its Naval power into an alliance with the victorious powers of New Europe."

_What's left of it_… thought the Czar without showing his whole satisfaction.

"Is it so?" whispered Alexander. "I suppose it is d'Arcy who is at the center of what's going to happen in Great Britain in the next months?"

"Abroad is his turf" confirmed Napoleon. "And I can't deny that he has done much better than I hoped even in my wildest dreams. He went out to free Ireland and a week later he had put a major player out of the game without losing more than a few hundreds of my men. I don't like his manic love for secrecy but I must recognize that he gets superb results while spending very reasonably."

The Czar made a face.

"There are rumors that he has robbed the gold of the bank of England." He looked at Napoleon. "Ten million pounds he put directly in his pocket."

"It was twelve million" said a rather satisfied Napoleon. "And he didn't rob it, he sank it and now it's just lost for everybody… No more gold to pay mercenaries to attack France. It's a shame we lost it but it's better at the bottom of the Thames estuary than in Mad George's hands."

Alexander was no fool. Had one of his underlings robbed him of twelve million pounds he would be mad as a drunken Boyar and said underling discussing right now with his torturers. Napoleon's satisfied smile could only mean one thing: d'Arcy had –discreetly of course- paid the part due to its master. Master who, as a counterpart, had granted him something which d'Arcy considered worth several million pounds. Alexander didn't fathom what it was, didn't fathom _yet_, but he would keep an eye on all that English matter…

He would have to hire a few members of the English gentry to work for him.

Just to send him a regular report of the situation in England.

* * *

"They sold him the best vessels of the Royal Navy" said Benevento while shaking his head. "Why would they do such a thing?"

"Those ships are no longer of any use. The Dame is able to sink ten of them before they can even fire a cannon ball at her. With a good captain at the wheel she could even sink a whole battle group… They just conned poor Alexander."

"Not so poor, he just made a two million pounds deal. There's real money there!"

"There was, Benevento, there was. I very much doubt that he has more than his pocket money left. He has just bought the means to wage his next Northern war."

"You mean he..."

"…Goes on with the policy of his forefathers. He wants to grab the North of Europe and these ships will be very welcome to overwhelm the Danish and Swedish fleets. And once those Kingdoms have lost their fleets he'll come in and force them under his yoke."

D'Arcy sighed.

"As I see it, he'll make a move against Finland in the next months or years. The only reason he would postpone his Northern campaign would be the launch of a Southern one."

"A campaign against the Turks."

"Yes" agreed d'Arcy. "And Napoleon will probably force his hand next Spring. With our troops in Greece he'll have no choice but to attack as soon as possible. He wants Constantinople and his whole campaign will orbit around taking the Ottoman Capitol City before us." D'Arcy snickered. "And as I see it he will succeed since Napoleon will never go for it."

"It's not a bad idea to take Istanbul" muttered Benevento. "Lots of loot and riches."

"And even more prestige for a ruler of the Orthodox faith," said d'Arcy. "You don't imagine how it will strengthen his image in Russia if he happens to give the Haga Sophia back to the Orthodox Cult! He'll be granted sainthood by the Patriarch of Moscow that same day."

He lifted his cup of tea toward the sky.

"And push the Patriarch of Athens into Napoleon's hands with even more force."

Benevento frowned.

"You play on the Patriarchs' rivalry?"

"Of course I do… You can't trust a religious leader, Benevento, never! If you are not of his faith he'll use that as an excuse to cheat on his given word and if you are he'll use his influence to try and manipulate you. A religious leader will turn coat on you the moment he sees a better opportunity coming his way. After all said opportunity has been sent by God himself, hasn't it? Its simple occurrence can be considered as a direct authorization to perjury! No, my friend, the only way to control them is to play one against the other. For now one Patriarch is in Alexander's pocket and the other, the one in Alexandria, is on Napoleon's side. The day Russia delivers Istanbul the Patriarch of Moscow will believe he has the overhand over the Orthodox flock. He will be forcing his old enemies of Athens and Alexandria to get together to try and control the faith in the Mediterranean area! And to get that control they'll have no choice but to support Napoleon!" D'Arcy's smile grew larger. "And we win."

Benevento shook his head.

"You're a devious bastard, Boss… One day you'll manipulate yourself into a shithole."

"Been there, done that" snickered d'Arcy. "But that doesn't mean I'll stop. It brought me much more satisfactions than disappointments, my friend. But you are right it is difficult to go on at that speed without making more mistakes. It's probably time to give someone else the opportunity to be the master manipulator."

He smiled at his trusted henchman.

"But for the time being, having found no heir in the matter, I won't have a choice but to go on."

* * *

"By God" shouted Darcy. "I hate that man! When will he ever stop manipulating everybody."

"I'm quite sure he doesn't manipulate Jane very often." said Mr. Bennet while reading the last paragraphs of the Peace Treaty.

"The key word being 'very often'" grumbled Darcy.

He pointed toward the sheets of paper he just finished to read.

"You see where that thing points toward?"

"A free England?" tried Mr. Bennet who was more than content with his son's anger. Of course he had seen where this Peace Treaty would pull his Darcy son. And it did give him quite a lot of satisfaction.

"Why do you complain? With a new Dynasty at England's wheel you'll get out of your King's costume much earlier than you hoped. Within two years you'll be back being Darcy of Pemberley, gentleman farmer and estate manager."

Darcy turned toward his father in law.

"No, no, no, don't play the dumb old senile grandfather! You know as well as I what this new ruling dynasty points at. He has manipulated me to be at the best place to fall into the pit he manipulated me to dig myself." He shook his head. "I should have restrained myself! Better I should have refused! I should…"

"Fitzwilliam, stop it!"

He turned to look at Lizzie and Jane.

"Lydia came to signal that you were shouting aloud scarring the servants! What happened to cool and controlled Fitzwilliam Darcy?"

"Cool and controlled Fitzwilliam Darcy died the day her husband came into my life" shouted Darcy while pointing, very ungentlemanly indeed, at Jane. "He's again manipulating me to end on a Throne. But this time it's the Throne of Great Britain!"

"He didn't manip..." began Jane but was stopped by her sister's droll face.

"We know you believe your husband, Jane" said Lizzie. "But the fact is that everybody else is certain that he did manipulate the Welsh to choose Fitzwilliam! They believe it even themselves, I've asked them! Your loyalty is admirable but with all due respect you don't convince anybody at all. And remember that even he refuses to deny having done it."

Jane couldn't help but sigh.

"He swore and he wouldn't lie to me." said she in a whisper.

"Boys and girls" said Mr. Bennet while ending his little satisfactory read. "Please take a seat and stop annoying the neighborhood with your shouts. We have to talk!"

He shot an amused look at Fitzwilliam.

"And I would be very satisfied if your brain could replace your hurt feelings, Fitzwilliam." He looked at his daughters. "Do you have an idea about the content of the Peace Treaty France and England will sign this evening?"

They both shook their heads. Jane with a little less energy than Lizzie.

"Well sit down and let me explain what is going to happen." He shot a dark look at Darcy. "And after having listened to the facts and after having celebrated the treaty signing, we will meet again and give our opinion about England's future! Do we agree?"

They all did!


	46. Treaty Signing

**Chapter forty six: Paris Treaty Signing**

* * *

**Paris, Friday the 19****th**** October **

* * *

"…And since France is, from now on, no longer England's occupier but England's friend and ward while the country rebuilds itself and chooses a regime that agrees to the People, I'll officially designate the Third Consul as England's warden during this, hopefully short, period of transition."

Everybody, of course, applauded to this not really surprising precision and soon the official part of the ceremony being finished the guests could let themselves entertained.

Jane was, as the day before at the center of all attentions and she took great care to be available and easy to get to for all who had the wish to speak to her.

And since and her Husband and the First Consul had vanished within minutes of the exchange of documents she had really nothing else to do but to show herself in the best light possible.

"Madame d'Arcy, could I steal a few minutes of your time?"

Jane turned to face late King George the Third.

"Of course your Majesty."

She apologized to her other guests and followed the late King aside of the main gatherings.

"I know we've already met and last time I wasn't quite…" he hesitated. "Normal would be the right word I suppose."

Jane flashed him her most compassionate smile.

"Even not normal you were a perfect gentleman and I remember our encounter with great pleasure even if the memory is a rather sad one."

The King agreed with a little head nod and patted her on the arm.

"I just wanted to thank you, _madame_" said the King. "Without you I'm quite sure that our poor country would have been under a foreign yoke for quite a few long years."

"Sooner or later, we would have gotten our freedom back, your Majesty. I'm sure of it!"

"That's the optimism of the youth speaking and I'm glad your optimism was backed by a will strong enough to convince your husband to grant you that particular wish. Thanks to you it will be so much sooner than I thought it possible. England and Great Britain owes you, _madame_ and even if my successor's family will probably hate and despise me for it I had the wish to give you this."

He put a scroll out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"This is the last decree I signed while still King of the United Kingdom. As you will be able to see once you open it, it has been witnessed by the Czar of Russia and the First Consul of France and both added, at my demand in writing, that I was sound in body and mind while affixing my signature on this document."

The late King smiled a rather impish little smile.

"Both signed without reading it and if for Alexander it will not be of importance, it will be for Napoleon and I'm quite satisfied to have been able to put that cuckoo's egg into his nest."

Jane took the document and looked at the ribbons and seals.

"You don't need to open it now, _madame_. It will only matter after the birth of you first son. First son which will have the great honor to be nurtured by a mother with a title of some importance." The King made an apologetic mien which was denied by his sparkling eyes. "It is a title which comes without any available land or riches but it is a title we Kings of England have possessed for centuries and which has been the reason for quite a few conflicts between France and England. But it pleases me to give it to the woman whose will and persistence have bestowed England her freedom back." His smiled broadened. "I've sent a signed copy to London where it will be handed to the next Chairman of the House of Lords. It will be his duty to make sure that you'll get in full what I've decided to grant you."

Jane took the scroll and made it disappear into the one of the folds of her cape.

"I'll try not to succumb to curiosity, your Majesty."

"You're a steadfast and strong-willed woman, _madame_, I don't doubt a second that you'll resist."

He brushed his lips on her fingers.

"Please convey a last message to your father and let him know that I regret more than ever that the fool I was didn't recognize the potential he was offering the Crown."

* * *

"That's quite a spectacle." whispered Napoleon.

"It sure impresses the weak minded" answered d'Arcy with a smile.

"Show respect, man, I'm your Boss!" grumbled Napoleon without losing his sparkling eyes and smiling face.

"Hey I just gave you six million testimonies of the respect I have for you!"

Napoleons snorted and tried and lift one of the ingots placed in the trunk he just opened.

"God, are they heavy! I can't even lift them a centimeter."

"I asked that they were smelted that way. I wanted them to weight a lot" explained d'Arcy. "You'll need at least to be two to transport one of those ingots outside this cellar. And you'll sweat for it… Nobody will be able to slip one in his pocket and run for it… If you want to use the gold you'll have to use the foundry in the other cellar. And as you see there are pulleys at the ceiling. With them you'll be able to easily cart the ingots to the foundry. There is enough coal to smelt everything there… But even an idiot will recognize the signs and I have people upstairs who are being paid to inform me if there's smoke coming out of the chimney."

"You're a sly and mistrusting bastard, d'Arcy, but you do know how to reduce risks! But I see the advantage. Who knows about this place?"

"You, I and Benevento know about the gold. There's a quartet of muscle men who had transported sealed trunks to a cellar whose entry they have embedded with twenty inches of masonry before going back to Damascus. They lived in the house and do know it's somewhere in Paris, that's all. The only other entry is the tunnel we just used. And I'm the only one, with you, who knows where it opens. Benevento never saw the entry… And you own the houses with both entries. For the time being I have trustworthy people living there. The moment you ask they move to be replaced by your people."

"And you trust Benevento?"

"He's a Corsican ruffian" said d'Arcy while smiling. "Would you?"

"You're playing with the fire, d'Arcy, don't mess with my patience!"

"You asked about him, remember. Not my fault it's in Corsica one finds the best ruffian in the Mediterranean see. It's just facts; no judgment involved."

Napoleon sighed and turned to exit the cellar.

"You're grating on my nerves, d'Arcy, let's go somewhere else."

They both went out and d'Arcy shut the door before giving the keys to Napoleon. There were six other strong doors between here and the tunnel's entry.

"They are all yours but were I you, I would change the locks… With the sums involved even an honest man like me could feel a slight hint of temptation."

"You're a thief, d'Arcy and you know it quite well."

"Coming from a specialist, I consider myself flattered."

"You can't go on without having the last word, can you?"

"There you put me in a very awful situation, o you magnificent ruler. If I stay silent, I call you a liar and if I speak I have the last word and you'll be angry with me… How am I to..."

"Oh, just shut up, d'Arcy, just shut up."

* * *

"Where have you been?"

"Bribing Napoleon" came d'Arcy's answer. "It wasn't cheap to get him to sign _that_ treaty. But it is always easy to find the good arguments with greedy people. It can be expensive but it is always a question of finding the right price."

Jane cast a veiled glance toward him.

"I'm sorry, I'm..."

"Don't, it's better even in the short term to have England out of Napoleon's hands. And I've had my revenge over your country now it's time to show how generous a d'Arcy can be."

He smiled at his wife.

"And one can consider it as a ransom after all. England paid with his own gold the right to be free again."

"And we lost Canada and Mauritius and parts of India."

"Well, that was France's revenge, dear… I couldn't let that opportunity to right old wrongs pass."

"What about all those French provinces which legally belong to England and that are unlawfully occupied by France?"

He winked at his wife.

"You answered yourself! Those were _French_ provinces and so France cannot occupy unlawfully what is even grammatically hers!"

"You are being partial" said she with a pout.

"Of course I am! I'm partial to my wife's wishes and I have spent humongous sums to be able to deliver what she was wishing!"

He saw that she was torn between being satisfied and being chagrined.

Satisfaction won.

"I'm glad you did" whispered she while blushing charmingly. "I was in an awkward position being so happy while my country was occupied."

He came to her and embraced her.

"I knew it, _mon amour_, and I did what had to be done as fast as possible."

He laughed at himself.

"Had I met you last year I would probably have canceled the whole invasion! You just would have smashed all ambition in me. As I'm standing here, I just want you to be happy and content and satisfied… And I know that knowing you happy is the sole important thing and that my happiness will soon follow! I fear I'm a lost man."

She snuggled against him and kissed him.

"You're not lost, I'll show you where you belong" said she while taking his hand. "Follow me."

* * *

"I just can't believe it."

Lizzie looked up from her nightstand where she was, as usual, brushing her hair.

"Believe what?"

"Believe that they just gave us our freedom back. Who would have considered they would do that? And why?"

Lizzie smiled at her husband who was lying on their bed and looking flabbergasted at the ceiling.

"Isn't the 'why' evident, dear? What is much more amazing is Napoleon's agreement to the whole scheme. I would have bet half of England's gold that he would never in his life time even consider his letting-go of any British territory. I do believe it but I don't understand it."

Darcy sighed.

"I've looked at him during the whole ceremony and if there was a man in that building who was spreading satisfaction around him than it was Napoleon. He was literally flying through the hall with a content smile glued on his face."

"So," said Lizzie, "the only certainty we can conclude out of his satisfaction is that he earned a lot more by letting us free than by holding on us."

She turned and stood up to join her husband. She sat on the bed and slipped under the linens. Soon he was holding her and her head was lying on his breast.

"If we look at the quantity of lands exchanged, he did obtain more territory than he gave away. Probably twice as much and, if we believe Geoffrey, those lands are as rich as it comes. Not to speak of the enthusiastic people who are settling it."

She couldn't help but shook her head.

"So, since he's already harvested a great deal of popularity with his subjects by invading us, letting us free will only strengthens his image as a responsible Statesman everywhere else in the world. He has shown that his armies were able to beat the crap out of even his most powerful enemies and when he finally goes out of England there won't be a great deal of difference between before and after…The sewers and the running water playing directly in his favor."

"Wasn't him" grumbled Darcy. "That's Geoffrey's and Uncle Gardiner's doing!"

"Well it is, but he will show it as his achievements and much good may it do to him! He's a man craving for public acceptance and in terms of popularity with the French people he did probably gain more with this treaty than ever before. And by trading England to get the French Canadians back immediately he makes a very powerful statement: if you're French and under foreign rule, I'll do what must be done to get you back into France's bosom as soon as possible. He's shown that he could do what two Kings have failed to do in the past. Tomorrow he's France's all time hero. And getting Mauritius and the Indian trading posts back won't damage his image either. And it means that d'Arcy will have outposts in the Pacific Ocean."

She glimpsed at her husband.

"And if there's one thing I'm sure about, then it is that Geoffrey will use these outposts for France's embellishment in that part of the world."

Darcy nodded and remembered what he had spoken about with his father in law earlier that day.

"You're right he'll use every advantage he's got to establish France's power in the Pacific Ocean. Luckily we have already begun to colonize the lands there but these colonies are way too weak in terms of defense. We need to secure them as soon as possible. We need to send more colonists there and to build a military and trading infrastructure. And the faster, the better."

"That's spoken like a true ruler" said Lizzie. "You just have to go on because even if Napoleon will lose England in the next eighteen months, he has already built himself an image which will give him so much more opportunities."

Darcy sighed.

"I hate it when you present it that way. It seems that giving us our freedom back has reinforced his position in Europe much more than invading us. He comes out the great winner and we look small and beaten."

Lizzie couldn't help but shrug.

"That's probably because Great Britain comes out of these last three months smaller, poorer and –if everything is said- beaten and bested." She turned and kissed her husband.

"Which means that it will be the next King's job to reestablish our strength, our prestige and our power in the world."

Darcy kissed her back while shaking his head.

"Won't be me… I'm not letting Geoffrey browbeat me onto another Throne!"

She looked him in the eyes and smiled.

"Alright, your Majesty, who do you see for the job?"

He gritted his teeth.

"Why should I have all the answers? There are other great houses in England who could provide valuable candidates. Why decide immediately?"

"Because the faster we propose a solution and the faster we'll be rid of the French 'temporary administration'. Speed is of the essence and as of now you are the only important English decision-maker who's able to work on it immediately."

Darcy made a face.

"I'm only the King of Wales," said Darcy firmly. "I have no power in England."

"You're the man whose oath proclaimed that he would do everything in his power to obtain the liberation of England. And three weeks after you spoke that oath you were at the treaty-signing that provided what you've sworn." She let herself purr in self-satisfaction.

"No other 'valuable candidate' can say that for him."

"I-don't-want-to-be-King!" stammered Darcy.

"Too late for that line, dear" answered Lizzie with a smile.

Fitzwilliam could only shout his frustration to the sky.


	47. Prisonners Politicians and Policemen

**Chapter forty seven: London Prisonners Politicians Policemen**

* * *

**London, Friday the 19****th**** October **

* * *

"Nobody pushed you into mugging this 'bourgeois'" grumbled Pitney Forkes who, for the moment, was impersonating Daniel Gibet's lawyer. "We were doing quite well without steering too much attention."

"Stealing from the French is another way to fight for England" said George.

"Don't try and make yourself look as if you've done it out of anything other than greed, Georgie Boy. You were bored and you were envious of that man's wealth. So you used the means we were providing you to do a little side business."

Pitney shook his head. "And as usual you did the worse job possible and here we are!"

"Get me out of here" whispered George. "Each moment that passes they could have a better look at me and recognize me!"

"Thanks God and thanks to our foresight you don't look like _you know who_."

"Everybody speaks of _me_" crooned George. "_I'm_ the hero of the whole town."

"Shut up, you want to hang? For now Daniel Gibet looks forward to five years jail or a little trip to Botany Bay! If they recognize you, your trip will be to Paris and to a little elevated platform! I do doubt that Fouché will let such an opportunity to discredit the Darcy family pass! It's not every day you can show to the world that the brother of a King is a common thief."

"I'm no..."

"Shut up, Georgie," whispered Pitney, "that's exactly what you are! And if you let yourself be recognized you'll be a British guillotined hero! It won't do the Darcys any good but you; you'll lose that empty head of yours!"

George mad a face but couldn't help shaking his head. He could very well imagine how the French authorities would use his little mistake to discredit the Darcy's. And since he soon would be the last Darcy alive it would be a very bad bargain to let _his _name be discredited.

"So what do we do?"

"We use the opportunities" whispered Pitney. "Now that you're in jail we will hide you in plain sight. Daniel Gibet will confess the mugging and we'll bribe the court to condemn you to an exile to Australia. The next convict ship is due at the beginning of December by then we will have been able to organize a jail break."

George opened his mouth to protest but Pitney shut him up with a frown.

"Don't even try and protest, Georgie. It's the best we can do without attracting too much attention on you. We'll have to trap one of the big fish of London's low life to be on the same convict ship than you and to be able to hide your evasion behind his! Meanwhile we'll provide your jailers a little extra pocket money and they'll provide you with all normal amenities rich prisoners can buy themselves while in detention. And meanwhile we will make sure that nobody will be able to suspect that Daniel Gibet and George Darcy are one and the same person."

"I don't like it." grumbled George.

"Take it out on yourself, you greedy bastard. Nobody forced you to mug that man. Nobody!"

* * *

Edward Gardiner couldn't help but shot a flabbergasted glance at Lebrun.

"You believe Napoleon will accept?"

Lebrun made a face.

"In normal circumstances I would have said 'no' but with d'Arcy involved I'm not so sure! He has arguments I know Napoleon is open to. And I doubt very much d'Arcy would have organized that Paris journey if he didn't believe himself ready to convince Napoleon."

"So it could have happened already."

"Why wait more?" asked Lebrun. "With the Czar as a witness that treaty won't be disputed." He shook the sheets of paper he was still holding. "This is, if Napoleon agreed, the key to France's evacuation of the British Islands."

"With the little problem of the temporary administration clause." whispered Gardiner.

"No problem at all" smiled Lebrun. "It is just that we now have a time limit for our economic and tax reform."

He looked at Gardiner.

"Will we be able to launch everything within a year?"

Gardiner nodded.

"Of course we can. I have already prepared the men around which we will be able to build the administrative structure. I'll lose a few of my best men but they will do wonders to give us an exact idea of everybody's wealth in Great Britain. Once that's done taxing will be a child's play and it will, for the first time in England's history, be exempt of all too obvious injustices."

"The Church and the Gentry will hate us for it."

"Only the fools will and those are of no importance. For the others, and the Church, the Company will provide very cheap means to increase an estate's income. Men like Darcy won't need our help because they already do what's best for them and, and it's the only thing I regret in my plan, they will be those who will lose a part of their income. But most of England's Gentry will, if they use the techniques the Company is able to provide, soon increase their income. For some of them it will be like doubling their income _after_ they've paid their taxes."

Lebrun rummaged through the files on his desk and fished a memorandum about the Chrich of England.

"The Church own a total of 11,5% of all arable lands. The day they will have to cough up their participation it will hurt."

Edward Gardiner couldn't help but let a satisfied smile appear on his lips.

"Not at all, I've already discussed the matter with the Heads of the Church. They don't like it but that ugly and genuine little memo signed by Napoleon who happened to slip into their hands was rather more convincing than my arguments. Paying ten per cent of an income that's still yours is much cheaper than having the French government selling all Church possessions for next to nothing." He smiled. "I must say that the Pope's letter asking his Nontius in Paris to see that the Church of England was at least not getting a better treatment than the Roman Catholic Church in France has had wondrous effects on the Council of Bishops. And that little rumor about the Pope promising his blessing for a Coronation in Paris in exchange of the restoration of the Roman Catholic Church in her possessions from before the split between the Church of England and Rome was another nice enticement to look at our little tax reform with a much more benighted eye."

Edward Gardiner's smile did even grow a little more.

"But I believe what gave them the final push into accepting it was my own memo about what a better management of the Church's estates could provide to their owner even if said owner had to give ten percent of its income to the Crown. The perspective to have twice as much money in the future is a real motivator against bigotry and old deep-rooted principles."

"But that's only if they hire managers who work in the manner you advise it."

"Indeed but I have already proposed an acceptable solution to the Bishop of Canterbury. A solution which has another advantage for the Church; it will give them autonomy in that question and within a few years give them the profitable opportunity to compete with my own management school."

Lebrun nodded seeing immediately the strong point of the proposition.

"And so you'll provide those members of the Gentry who would have refused to hire men coming out of your school to find good managers, with professionals who have nothing to do with you."

"Indeed" smiled Mr. Gardiner. "If I'm the only one who teaches these matters my enemies will refuse the improvement they'll bring just out of spite. But if the Church is able to provide good righteous and honest managers who follow the same lines as mine, they won't have any good reason to not hire them… For those who stick at bad reasons, I fear all my efforts would be in vain."

Lebrun nodded at his friend.

"Of course I'll steal your idea as soon as I'm back in France, you realize that, don't you?"

"Of course" smiled Mr. Gardiner. "Good ideas are those everybody steals with the greatest gusto but it is of no real importance since I won't try to implant the Company on the continent. And the more good honest managers are on the market, the faster our economy will blossom and increase everybody's wealth."

He looked at the man who was, now that he knew him so much better, a real genius in matters taxes and public services.

"But we will have a shortage of pupils, you realize it… We don't have a sufficient pool of educated young men to give us all the managers we need even if we drain the pool of the Church's future priests."

"We could drain the pool of educated young women" suggested Lebrun. "Estate management is after all only an extension of the 'Oikos' which is, since the Greeks, the reserved domain of womenfolk. With the help of your nieces we should be able to convince quite a few of them… And you know as well as I do that they are not less smart than men."

"But much more manipulative" whispered Edward Gardiner. "Do we really want to unleash the curse of educated smart and strong-willed young ladies on the poor and unprepared menfolk?"

"Yes" answered Lebrun with a greedy smile on his lips. "Let those young studs discover a world where they are no longer the only decision-makers. We, after all, are already in places those smart educated and strong-willed young ladies will not be able to take away… Not for quite some time."

They both laughed heartily and after another cup of tea went back to their brain child. There was still that important decision about the schedule of the tax reform to be made.

* * *

"We have an inspection scheduled" said Belgram to Graham Pikes his most trusted lieutenant. "Fouché wants us to capture Darcy. He doesn't like the way he ridicules France. He never liked having natives doing the police work here in London and our failure to capture Darcy is very high on his disapproval list."

"I have a squad hunting him" said Graham. "But, I must admit, he isn't very high on my most wanted list. He's more of a prankster and putting too many forces at his tail would be counterproductive. He mocks the authorities, so what? He hasn't killed anybody and his two attempts to invade the palace have failed. He is a thorn in our flank but no real danger. I have a lot of more dangerous criminals to deal with."

Belgram took out a file and slipped it to Pikes.

"I have two witnesses who link George Wickham Darcy to the burglar bands we destroyed a few weeks ago. Seems he was the brain behind the scene."

"That would explain where he got the money he has now." nodded Pikes. "But as I say even those burglars didn't kill anybody. And they stole only from the Gentry. There was a little Robin Hood flavor in those exploits."

"There's also a lot of envy and greed in them. He literally ruined his cousins' town house… And sent quite a few of his followers to the hospital. "

"You mean the general's family? The one who beat him up?"

"The same… But he was beaten up after the robberies and I suspect the dear general got some insight about the real identity of the perpetrator. I'm not sure I would have been as lenient had he done that to my parent's house."

"Well he is a little piece of crap but let's look the truth into the eyes. He's a clown. His exploits with flags and graffiti are amusing and do a lot to maintain the people in London good humored. Putting him in jail would just aggravate the people. As long as he is on the run with his brushes and Union flags he's doing more for the safety of the city than a full scale search would do. He's a minor nuisance, no need to spend good money after bad. One day we'll get him because he'll make a mistake… Meanwhile let's just forget him."

"Fouché wants us to get him and Fouché is Minister of Police and Carceral affairs… I wouldn't like to have him decide we were on the clown's side… It's unsafe to have that man disliking you!"

"I concur! So what do we do?"

"We waste good money after bad, that's what we are going to do! Put more men on that case and shake a few more informants. Let's try and get a few results. He has quite a number of accomplices who lend him a hand in painting London's walls. Go and get a few of them. That will perhaps calm down Fouché's bad mood."

"If I believe the rumors he's always in a bad mood."

"Well, than let's hope that this will be enough to point his bad mood at someone else!"

* * *

They were in London for a few hours and they were already amazed at the degree of safety reigning in the streets. The gendarmes were not numerous but they were efficient and sufficiently present to maintain the criminals on their toes.

"We should take that Belgram to Paris and let him wave his magic there" whispered Anglares the chief of the little duo. "London is much safer than Paris. He knows his job that man."

"But he has failed to capture that Darcy" said his 'wife' Isabelle. "And Fouché has always preferred a few thugs to even one counter-revolutionary."

"When he is on the counter-revolution's side" snickered Anglares. "He's turned coat more than any other Minister I know of."

"So, since he's still Minister it shows how good he is in his job."

"It just shows that he has files on everybody" insisted Anglares. "And if I remember well we were at the source of quite a few juicy pieces of trash contained in these files."

"You should have forgotten about those juicy pieces" urged his mistress. "It's never safe for an underling to know too much about those mighty few."

"It's never safe to forget too easily. That's the reason I have a few written documents hidden at various places which would surface if something untoward should happen to us."

"That's not a safe way to play the game."

"There is no safe way to play that game! We know too many secrets not to be on our dear boss' hit list. So to make sure that he will remember how precious and trustworthy we are, it is better that he has an interest in our survival."

"You threatened him?"

"I never even spoke about it but as you remember we found enough of these insurance policies to let him know that such a possibility shouldn't be dismissed too easily. He knows I'm the best specialist in finding those compromising papers and that's what makes me the man who could have the knowledge to effectively hide them." He smiled. "And for me that's enough, no threat needed!"

"Well, let's hope it is enough and let's go to work, we have a dangerous freedom fighter to capture."


	48. Biorna's Home Coming

**Chapter forty eight: Ireland Biorna's Home Coming**

* * *

**Ireland, Saturday the 20****th**** October **

* * *

"Why do you love a fool?"

Kitty looked up from the scenery and smiled at Charles.

He had been brooding since their departure early that morning and hadn't said a word for hours. Till now.

"Because love is not a reasonable decision, Charles! You don't love for reasons you've thought of. You love because something in the being you love spoke to you and transformed you… Love is letting your soul look and see and taste another soul and understanding that that other soul is part of you and that you are finally complete because of that feeling - that burns and heats your soul."

"What if that other human being doesn't reciprocate your love? What if you are the only one whose soul is flying towards heaven?"

"You're still flying towards heaven, Charles and that's what's important. It's better in a human way to be able to fly to heaven together but it isn't necessary. Loving is the important thing, sharing love is just a pleasant by-product."

"I'm in love and I'm falling towards hell, Kitty. And jealousy festers in my heart and soils my soul…"

"That's because you don't look at your love but only at your hurt feelings. Love gives you wings but it is up to you to use them to go up or down…"

"You do love me, don't you?"

"With all my heart…"

"Doesn't it hurt you that I'm unable to acknowledge your love and forget my own love for Jane?"

"It hurts me because I see you suffer, Charles! Though, I don't begrudge you your love for Jane. I love Jane with all my heart and for all my life I won't ever cease to love her. Her soul is the most beautiful thing I've ever had the privilege to look at. She's shown me that a beautiful soul is able to enter the realm of matter and to bend it to its own laws! That soul had been able to create earthen beauty that's in shape with its own splendor…"

She took Charles' hands.

"But to see her soul's splendor you need a beautiful soul of you own. And for me that soul is so much more beautiful than any other I've seen…"

"I don't deserve you" said he finally with a shy smile.

"My soul tells me otherwise" answered Kitty. "You don't need to erase your feelings for Jane to be able to give your feelings for me free reign! Love is no finite quantity. You'll find in your soul endless space to store ever more love. You'll find space for your love for your future wife, you'll find space for your love for your children and you'll even find space for your love for your sister whose misbegotten love for Darcy has opened the path for d'Arcy and Jane's love story…"

He made a face.

"That one will be tough."

"Tougher than accepting that Jane's love for you –because she still loves you, don't doubt it- will never blossom in that fiery carnal relationship she shares with d'Arcy?"

Charles frowned; half shocked half amused.

"Perhaps not" did he admit with a guilty smile.

"So you'll have to find that with another partner" said Kitty with a beguiling smile. "It's not impossible you know; Jane was never shy with explanations that could facilitate her sisters' lives… And I very much doubt that she and Lizzie have secrets from each other… I'll have ample possibilities to expand my knowledge in those matters."

She did find Charles' blush very cute.

* * *

"Mr. Bingley, what a pleasure to meet you finally" said the priest who'd come out of the Church to welcome them. "I'm father O'Bannon and I do believe I've found what you are looking for."

"You found traces of my father?"

"Not only your father, I'm quite sure I've found your family…"

"Where?"

"They live all over West Ireland, most live in County Cavan, and your nearest family members live in Rosscolban… The Biorna are quite numerous there."

"Nearest?" asked Kitty. "How near?"

"I believe you'll find your grandmother, Uncles, Aunts and numerous cousins. As I said the Biorna are a numerous bunch in that area."

Kitty frowned at the priest's tone.

"There's something else you have to tell us, father? I can't dismiss a certain misgiving in your tone when you speak of them."

Father O'Bannon made a face.

"Well they are not easy going people, the Biorna. They are..." He hesitated while looking at Charles.

"They are?" insisted Kitty while Charles wondered why the priest was taking such precautions.

"Not kind people" said the priest finally. "They look at strangers with a lot of hostility and whoever happens to try and rule them he always finds himself battling the Biorna Clan. They are unruly people and are always in opposition. I do think it's a matter of principle with them. They just refuse to bow to anybody… And they lost quite a few members of their family because of that worldview."

He sighed.

"1798 has been a difficult year for them, they lost a quarter of their menfolk in the uprisings and even if most of them didn't die they were shipped to Australia to never come back… It is perhaps not the best period in that family's history to make contact. Especially if one could be considered by them as a member of the English ruling class."

Kitty looked at Charles and was quite satisfied to see determination tale place in his eyes.

"If we are not welcome we won't stay" said Charles. "But we didn't come to stop a few miles before our goal. I want to know them and if they don't want to know me it'll be their loss."

He looked the priest in the eyes.

"Where do I find my grandmother? I believe she'll be the best source to my father's history. And once I know what I came for if she wants me out of town, I'll just take my fiancée and move back to London."

Kitty didn't react but a little smile blossomed on her lips.

It had been the first time since they were trying and remodeling their relationship that he had titled her 'his Fiancée'! It did, indeed, ring well in her ears.

* * *

"I'm Ma Biorna, you wanna see me? Why?"

Ma Biorna was indeed a very impressive woman. Not at all the Matron type but rather the wiry shrunken type with fiery eyes and white hair… Straight like a rod and postured like a cobra snake not yet decided to spit you in the eye.

In other times she would probably have impressed Charles into stammering. But with Kitty at his side he was finding new unknown resources in himself.

"My name's Charles Bingley. I'm the son of Michael Rutledge Bingley who would have been fifty eight the tenth of April next year. I believe before naming himself Bingley in England he was a Biorna born in this valley… And I want to know why he went away!"

"You want to know?" spat the old hag threateningly.

"Yes I do" answered Charles with a curious little smile. "And I'm sure I'll learn everything I want to know very soon. Even now as I speak with you I do get an interesting hint why he would have decided to quit such a charming neighborhood."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"I mean that if every member of the Biorna family is cut in the same cloth as you, I fully understand why he was eager to go somewhere else. Couldn't be worse."

There was a weighty silence which made the air crackle with tension.

But finally Ma roared in a mighty voice.

"Yes, you sure are Micky's son! Never learned to show respect to his mother either! Quit as soon as he could, that lazy bastard."

Charles was at her throat –figuratively speaking- the second she stopped talking.

"Dad wasn't lazy and he certainly wasn't a bastard and I'll throttle each and everyone who goes on defaming him. Even if it's my old hag of a grandmother!"

That earned him a gusty laugh.

"Well at least if I judge by the color of your hair and the courage you're showing, you're clearly my grandson! You've got guts not like..."

"Stop it now, grandmother. I won't accept my father being insulted! He worked like a devil and was able to give me and my sisters the means to become part of England's ruling class. He was a great man and I won't let anybody lessen his achievements."

"Well" she looked at Kitty. "He also got my temper, that's for sure! And who would you be?"

"She's my future wife." said Charles before Kitty could answer. "And I didn't come to get your approval; she'll be if it pleases you or not!"

Ma Biorna couldn't hide a smile.

"She'll be because it pleases her, boy! I see it in her eyes, that one won't let you off the hook!"

She laughed aloud.

"And that's as it should be."

* * *

"We must try to get them back." said Charles.

They were all sitting at Ma Briona's huge table and eating a welcome feast. Surrounding Kitty and Charles were all the ancients of the Clan and they were speaking of the men of the Clan who had been exiled to Australia.

"It will be difficult" said Kitty. "Autralia is still under British rule; it won't be easy to get the governor there to accept to release convicts. Having been expelled of Ireland is not going to make them like their Irish convicts any better."

"We could ask d'Arcy to launch an expedition to invade Australia."

The eyes of the whole table turned at them.

"You know d'Arcy?" asked his Uncle Sean, the younger brother of his father. There was no love noticeable in the question's tone.

"He's my brother in law" answered Kitty. "Why the hostility against him? He came to liberate you."

"His men came here and threatened us" explained Ma. "They even molested Kirk… He's still unable to walk."

Kitty answered with a knowing smile.

"He has his ways to convince stubborn and foolish people. You're lucky your Kirk's still alive. When he has set a goal he doesn't hesitate to do what must be done to get results! I suppose you wanted to launch your own private vendetta against the English Ascendency?"

"They deported twenty four of my lads to Australia" shrieked Ma. "I want their skins on the Clans drums!"

Kitty looked her future grandmother in the eyes.

"Don't act foolishly! Geoffrey's armies are still in Ireland and if you launch anything which goes against his plans you'll soon get the proof that the English Ascendency were lambs compared to his wolves."

"We don't bow before tyrants!" was the general outcry.

"You'll better change your mind, then," insisted Kitty. "Because d'Arcy is the most ruthless killer you'll ever encounter. He has no intention to stay in Ireland but he wants this liberation to be as smooth and clean as possible. If to get that he'll have to make disappear a few hundreds obstinate idiots he'll just do that!"

A hand grabbed her wrist.

"If you're in our hands he'll perhaps hesitate."

Kitty couldn't help but laugh at her future cousin.

"The only thing you'll get is that –that being a family matter- he will have to come in person. And there will be blood all over the country."

Ma's hand grabbed the cousin's wrist and soon he had no choice but to grimace and open his fingers.

"And if family is important for this d'Arcy, don't forget it is also important for us. With Catherine part of our in-laws we will have much better arguments to get d'Arcy's help than bragging and foolish threats."

"You'll have to wait the decisions of the courts to get your vengeance" insisted Kitty. "You can't go on acting like there's no law for you in Ireland."

"We Biornas are of ancient Viking blood" stated Ma. "And we never accepted to bow before anyone. Be them foolish Irish braggarts or weak English Aristocrats. We don't bow to inferiors!"

"Well d'Arcy is a direct heir of Wilhelm the Conqueror. There's no better Norman blood anywhere! You should grasp the opportunity that fact gives you to begin to act like grown-ups. For the next few months at least it will be d'Arcy's law who rules Ireland that should be Vikingish enough even for you to stop acting like fools!"

* * *

They were, finally, alone with Ma and Sean who was, if everything was said, the war leader of the Clan.

"So you really believe d'Arcy could help us to get our boys back?" asked Sean a big red-haired brawny giant of a man.

"Of course he could" answered Kitty. "If there's an easy way to get them back he'll do it quickly. If there's not he'll find another way to do it… He's the most resourceful man I ever encountered."

Sean looked at Charles and his question was so evident that Kitty couldn't help but laugh aloud.

"And to answer your question I was already in love with Charles when he entered the family! Even if I hadn't been d'Arcy was courting my elder sister and I don't mess in my sisters' love life!"

Ma shot her an approving look.

"That's my girl," said she. "Welcome in the family you'll be an asset in your own right even if Charles is, in himself, quite interesting enough."

Charles made a face. Since they were alone with the Clan's leaders it hadn't been a minute without them trying to spend his money!

"I'll help you but I won't let you decide what to do with my money. I'm the specialist here! I'll invest where I see it profitable to invest. You can howl all you want; if your ideas suck you'll have to find another source of financing."

"We always did it th..."

"Well" interrupted Charles. "It's time to adapt! You're outdated and obsolescent in your ways and if I'm the one who can pull you out of your backwardness I'll be the one who decides how it's done! And financing a pirate fleet isn't the smart thing to do on seas where ironclads and wood clad steamships are soon to be patrolling. You can say all you want but Viking raiding parties are things of the past and I'm not going to give you the money to build new ships."

"We could build wood clad steamship of our own." insisted Sean.

"And if you don't try to use them to launch a new piracy nest I'll help you to build the shipyards but I won't finance piracy."

"We were never richer than when we raided the European coasts."

"That was one millennium in the past; and Europe's seas were a vast lawless emptiness. That's no longer the case!"

"We could try and colonize a new Kingdom." argued Sean. "There are humongous stretches of void lands all over the world. One of our cousins colonized Sicily, we could do the same."

"You already colonized part of Ireland, you remember?" said Charles whose patience was thinning by the second. "And Cromwell crushed you like the other petty Irish war lords. Colonizing is now the business of mighty Kingdoms or Empires. Even if you could grab a piece of land somewhere it would only last a few years before France or Russia will try and take it away!"

"We would fight."

"And be crushed once more!" shouted Charles. "There is no longer a future for private kingdom making..."

"Where is our future, Charles?" asked Ma while looking him in the eyes. "Tell us!"


	49. Reminders of Past Glory

**Chapter forty nine: Istanbul Reminders of Past Glory **

* * *

**Istanbul, Sunday the 13 Jumaada al-Thaany 1216 A.H.**

* * *

"Will there be war, father?"

Selim the third looked up from the message his Master of Birds had just brought. His oldest son, Mustapha, had just finished his lessons and, as usual, he had come to give his father a summary of his day.

"There is already, son… Our troops fight in Greece and the Balkans and Armenia is at the brink of rebellion."

"Those are not wars, father, those are traitors who soon should lose their heads…"

Selim smiled at his son's certitudes and hid a frown while he sniffed a hint of criticism.

"Don't be too rash to brand new traitors. We the Sultans we made mistakes and me and you we will have to pay for them. In blood most probably."

"We will win, Allah is on our side."

"Allah was already on our side three years ago and we still lost Syria and Egypt…"

_I should stop speaking so, thought the Sultan. Those walls have grown ears centuries ago. And speaking against the Faith won't give me new allies to secure my power_. _I know this Empire is slowly crumbling away and I know what I should do to preserve it but as soon as I even think about what have to be done my enemies crush it in the bud_.

"That's because we weren't straight enough in our Faith. That's what happens when mongrels and apostates are allowed to flourish."

_I'll have to organize some accident for some of your teachers, my son… I won't let them poison our relation._

"Am I hearing a criticism, here?"

His voice gave his son a clear hint of his father's present state of mind.

But he didn't balk and that gave the Sultan great satisfaction. At least his son was not craven.

"Indeed you do, father. We should stop thinking about winning the people of the Empire back with lenient policies and show them what it will cost them to stop being obedient. A few thousand beheadings will do the convincing quite fine."

_Those words sound familiar. I do believe I just was granted a look into the future. I know who will slip in his bathroom and drown to death…_

"Father beheaded thousands in Syria and Egypt and it just convinced our surviving subjects to look for another ruler."

"Traitors, all of them. When we take those countries back they'll pay. The desert will blossom many red flowers in the coming years."

Indeed it will but those flowers won't be the sign of dying traitors.

"I didn't really answer your question son. Yes we will be at war soon."

"Who will it be?" asked his son who was easy to push in a new direction.

_He's too easy to manipulate. He doesn't know it but he is uttering strangers' words believing that they are his… The Sultan smiled at his son who frowned at him in response showing contempt where respect should have been shown. Be careful son, you are my first born but I still have Mehmet, he will become my heir as soon as I'm sure that I've lost you. Hopefully you are not yet tainted and somebody else's creature. Let's hope for you. _

"I believe they will send this d'Arcy with his armies…"

"We will teach him defeat, father. Don't doubt it. Our armies are nothing like those English militias. Our Janissaries will beat his troops to pulp."

"They already tried once in Syria and Egypt! Have you forgotten?" asked the Sultan still smiling.

"We were betrayed…" came the immediate, rash and disappointing answer. "He bought our generals. It is said that he is fabulously rich."

The Sultan stopped smiling and gave his son a stern look.

"It was your uncle who was in overall command of the Syrian armies. Your mother's brother. Do you accuse him of having been bought by d'Arcy?"

His son paled visibly.

You're not yet good enough for this sort of play, my son. I wasn't sure who was trying to make you his tool, now I know. I'll have to have a word with your mother.

"Not him… His underlings… They have been bought."

"He chose them, all of them. I gave him carte blanche to win this war and he picked all the officers he wanted. I had no say in this part of the Syrian campaign. Would you trust a man who has shown so poor a judgment?"

"He is our best strategist…"

_Is he? Now that is news. My best strategist lost forty thousand of my best soldiers within four weeks. I dread to think what another might have lost. _

"Have you studied his campaign in Syria?"

"He gave me an extensive report, father. He was…"

The Sultan stopped his son immediately.

"Have you looked at the official reports? Have you recreated the battles on maps? Have you asked questions to those other officers who fought with him against d'Arcy? In other words, son: have you studied the Syrian campaign as I asked you to?"

Now his son was pale as a frog's tummy.

"I thought that…"

"A Sultan thinks after he has looked at all the facts, not before!" interrupted the Sultan. "Since it seems that you have trouble following my orders, we will have to do the studying together."

He clapped in his hands.

Immediately his personal servant was at his side.

"Summon Abdul Baba in the war room and ask him to invite all the officers who were at his side during the Syria campaign."

Just before the servant was out of sight he called him back while looking at his son.

"And ask for the Headman to be present. My son believes some of those officers were bought by our enemies, it could be that we need him."

He didn't like his son's reaction.

* * *

"You called your Grace?"

"Indeed I called, general" answered the Sultan. "I spoke with my son about the Syrian campaign you leaded and I'm amazed by his answers. He seems persuaded that your underlings have been bought by d'Arcy. Hence the reason for our defeats…"

Said underlings who were already looking at the Sultan with more than a little apprehension in their eyes became a shade greyer.

The Sultan looked toward them before making a sign with his fingers asking for Suleiman Pacha to come nearer.

Suleiman had been his beloved Captain Pacha Hassan's trusted lieutenant and he had already answered to a lot of questions from his Sultan a few years ago.

He looked the old general in the eyes.

"My son pretends that you have been bought, general… Is he telling the truth?"

Suleiman Pacha sighed and smiled at his Sultan.

"Who am I to refute his Grace's affirmation? If it pleases his Grace to decide that I merit to be executed I will gladly await my execution." He looked at the headman standing at the Sultan's right. "Is it you wish to do it here?"

The Sultan looked at his son and smiled.

"Shall we begin immediately, Mustapha?"

Clearly unable to find an adequate answer his son's eyes were wildly going from his father to his uncle.

For a long time all eyes were on the young Prince.

His son finally summoned enough courage to answer.

"I don't know father… It would perhaps be better to make an inquiry before beginning to execute loyal officers."

The Sultan was satisfied with his son's answer but still the lesson had to be learned.

"There was already an investigation, son!" he said. "We don't have to wait a second longer. We know why we have lost Syria and treason was never a part of it." He looked his son in the eyes. "Still you accuse my brothers' underlings to have been bought. Could we know where you have found those new facts that change the results of a two year long investigation?"

Mustapha frowned and looked at his uncle.

"I have no fact but I have been told that…"

To his father's great satisfaction he stopped there, closed his eyes and cleared his voice.

"I was wrong to make accusations without having listened to all parties, father. I understand that now, could it be possible to show me why I erred?"

The Sultan nodded.

"Suleiman, please tell the Prince your part of the story, he already knows what my wife's brother told him."

* * *

Two hours later Suleiman stopped talking.

The Sultan looked toward the other officers.

"Do you want to add something to Suleiman's report?"

As he knew the only answer he received was silence.

_Time to see if my son has understood_.

"And you, son, do you want to ask for precisions?"

Mustapha shook his head and his father was satisfied to see in his eyes that certainty has been replaced by doubt. His son no longer was certain about what was the truth.

_He'll have to study the military reports to understand exactly why we lost the battles and he'll have to study the reports of the Door's governors to understand why we lost the people. Now he knows only that even an uncle can lie if it's in his interest. All in all: an excellent lesson_. _Let's see if he has learned something else_.

"Well, my son, can you give us a summary of that what you have learned about that campaign?"

Mustapha closed his eyes… _I'll have to teach him to concentrate with open eyes. A Sultan must never forget that his enemies are everywhere, even in his throne room_.

"We were on home ground and we had in each battle at least twice as much men than the French and we lost nevertheless each of them."

"Those are the facts…" the Sultan agreed. "What conclusions do you draw out of them?"

"The French were better?" said his son with reluctance.

"Nobody can deny it, son. During the investigation we looked at every single decision our commanders made and with hindsight we now know what we should have done to resist a little longer." He shook his head. "But in the end, even if we had made all the right decisions we would have lost nevertheless." He sighed. "Do you know why?"

"D'arcy outthought us?"

"Indeed that he did but that is only one factor for our overall defeat. He was still outmanned and outgunned in a foreign country with no available reinforcement and with shaky supply lines. We could have won just by holding our positions. We should have resisted long enough to see the sent reinforcement arrive. And with armies four times as numerous as his even his tactical genius would not have been enough."

"Our men broke…" said finally Mustapha. "They lost faith and routed!"

The Sultan could only nod. Each time his soldiers had been unable to endure a lengthy battle. They fought but they never believed in their chances to win. And with each defeat their moral had been declining.

"We no longer have soldiers who believe in what they fight for, Mustapha. Even our elite troops do no longer have confidence in the Door's overall possibility to win a battle. Too many defeats have stripped them of their manhood. They are like beaten children awaiting their next trashing."

"One victory and everything can be reversed" shouted Abdul Pacha. "It is all we need…"

Selim smiled at his brother in law.

"You had eight possibilities, brother. And at the last battle you had once again more soldiers, more guns and more cavalry than d'Arcy and even a better position than him." _You should have been more cautious with your choice of battlefield, brother. It was too good to be true. As you've seen_… "And one hour after the first French charge you were running like every other soldier of my armies. Luckily _your_ horse was better than those of d'Arcy's Egyptian Mamelouks…"

Abdul Pacha could only grit his teeth over what was his greatest humiliation. He couldn't deny it, he had run and he had been as scarred as every other of his soldiers. But who could have foreseen that the very position he had himself chosen was bristling with buried_ enemy_ landmines?

The Sultan sighed and made a slight gesture.

"Let's bygones be bygones and let's speak about the future." He ordered the Headman to his side and whispered in his ear. The Headman immediately removed himself from the room.

A few minutes later the Grand Vizier and the rest of the Inner Council joined them.

Selim showed them the message he received a few hours ago. "I just got confirmation from our agents in Paris that France and Russia will strike at us next spring." He looked at the lesser officers who were not delighted to still be there. "Since you are here and since you've all already fought against d'Arcy I want to hear your advice in order to win the next battles against him. Feel free to give us your honest opinion: I need advice not toadying!"

"Do we have an idea where they will strike?" asked his Grand Vizier Kör Yusuf Ziyaüddin Pasha.

"My spies just got general information about what the Czar and Napoleon are preparing. I'm not sure they know themselves where they will strike next spring."

"Will d'Arcy be in command of the French?" asked Mustapha.

The Sultan made a placating gesture.

"As of now I just know that they prepare an attack. I don't know if they will join or if they will attack at two different places. We have five months to be ready for their attack. What I want you to think about is how to use these few months at best to have a chance to still exist next year…"

It was one of the officers who spoke first. The Sultan was rather surprised by the man's courage.

"Without knowing where to await them, it's impossible to make any useful preparations…"

"We know everything we need!" countered Abdul Baba. "The Russian will come through Walachia. We must await them there."

"Were I the Czar Walachia would be the sole country were I wouldn't go" insisted the officer. "Even if it is the evident ethnic and political choice it would be a military mistake. Would he be alone, I'm sure he would exactly do that, but with d'Arcy's and Napoleon's input even he will understand that we will await him there with a strong defensive force."

"So you believe we should await him there?" asked the Sultan.

"We have no choice Your Majesty" answered the officer. "If we don't station troops there he will come! He has half the population spying for him. If we don't reinforce our troops there he will feel as if invited…"

"We could lure him" said the Grand Vizier. "Place troops in secret…"

"With half the population spying for him, your Grace? No way we can hide troop movements in Walachia without the Czar knowing. But we could send our worst troops there and have them prepare field fortifications. I'm sure that even with piss poor troops we can hold our positions against the Czar for months if need be."

"But in your opinion he won't come…" insisted the Sultan.

"Not if d'Arcy or Napoleon were able to share with him their military experience. As said we can't skip building a strong defense in Walachia but in my opinion we don't need to send anything better than armed work gangs under the supervision of a general with good defensive experience."

"Where would you attack?" asked the Sultan.

"Greece and Armenia" answered the officer. "Greece because the French have within the last six months acquired an extraordinary experience in landing troops on foreign shores. They have the know-how to do it even under enemy fire. Add to that military factor the fact that in Greece they will be able to count on the support of a friendly population and you have all the best reasons to see why they will disembark there."

"And Armenia has the same advantages for the Russians" nodded the Sultan. "Should we concentrate troops there?"

"Yes" said the officer. "We should concentrate troops but not to defend Greece or Armenia. What we need to do is launch an attack." He made a face. "We need to force them to make war on a battlefield of our choosing. Everything else is an open door to fast defeat."

The Sultan wasn't a fool and he had learned a long time ago to see ugly nuances when they came upon him.

_The key word is_ fast! _He doesn't promise victory just a way to hold out longer_. He shrugged. _At least he is honest_. _It is time to let his superiors do their work_.

"Brother" he said while looking at Abdul Baba. "See if and when we can launch an attack with sufficient power behind it to force the Russians to postpone their own plans and react to our movements. You'll have my best troops and the major part of all my Janissaries. We must threaten them or they won't take the bait. See me tomorrow with your first propositions."

He smiled at the young officer whose honesty has probably shattered forever his military carrier.

"What is your name, Agha?"

"Suleyman, Your Majesty…"

_Another one_, grumbled the Sultan. _Let's hope I'll never become as famous as my forebear dubbed the Magnificent! Half my subjects are named after him and it makes things so much more difficult_.

"Move your family to Istanbul, I take you as my military councilor and want you available night and day." He looked at the Grand Vizier. "See that my new councilor gets a nice accommodation for himself and his family within the Palace."

_That will mark you definitely as one of my creatures, boy. You've just lost half your friends and all your hopes to die of old age in your bed._

He made an imperative gesture to his new servant and turned around.

"Follow me we are not yet finished."

* * *

"Would killing d'Arcy help?" asked the Sultan.

"Marginally, Your Majesty. He is a military genius and his death would mean better chances to win a battle from time to time. But the French have another military genius in the person of Napoleon and what makes thing even uglier half the French generals are amazingly capable tacticians. They will jump into his boots and win most of their confrontations against us." He shrugged. "We are just not good enough…"

"Not even you?"

"I'm good at finding truths not easily found. But I'm not fast enough to make decisions in the blink of an eye. I am probably a good enough analyst –not as good an analyst as d'Arcy but better than most- but I'm a lousy tactician. It takes too long for me to make up my mind. And that's a bad combination when a battle is being fought and men are dying while you ponder the decision you have to make."

"I've heard that d'Arcy is well loved by our former Arab subjects… Why is it so?"

"He is, in his behavior and upbringing, a man of the East. He speaks Arabic fluently and he understands how his counterparts will react. He looks like a Westerner but his soul has been forged over an Eastern Anvil with a Chinese Hammer. No squeamish armchair strategist that one! He knows when a little massacre brings better results than leniency."

"Is there a chance to win him for us?"

"What could we offer him? He's already richer than Croesus, is in everything but title France's number two leader and has, last August, found a spouse who is already renowned to be Europe's most beautiful woman. Add to that that rumors say that he will be, next year, the happy father of twins…" Suleyman made a face. "Nothing to do in that department."

"We could kill or kidnap his wife" said the Sultan. "It would probably trouble him…"

"It would anger him and he would retaliate, Your Majesty. Please remember he's no squeamish Westerner, if we began the dagger dance he will enter the fray with gusto and determination. I'm not sure we really want to discover everything he's capable of…"

"Not a very satisfying answer…" grumbled the Sultan.

"The best one I can give you, though" answered Suleyman. "But, to ponder what I said, you should know that I believe that d'Arcy won't be the commanding officer of the French Invasion Force."

"Why so?" asked the Sultan.

"Napoleon needs to get back in the limelight and he's afraid to lose his clout with his troops. _He_ will be heading the French troops."

"And that's good for us?"

Suleyman could only shake his head.

"Not really, Your Majesty, not really…"


	50. Rosscolban Preparations

**Chapter fifty: Rosscolban Preparations, Cardiff Headbutts**

* * *

**Ireland and Wales, Sunday the 21****st**** October**

* * *

"You could have asked her father before taking her on this trip." grumbled Ma. "So you could be married this afternoon and we could move on to serious business."

"Marriage is serious business" protested Charles who was by the second regretting having taken the foolish decision to know his Irish family. Because never would he have thought that his family came with a she-dragon of the de Bourgh caliber at its head.

"Not any more for you" cut his grandmother. "You want her, she wants you and you are both mature enough to have thought about what it means to be married. So no reason to wait more… I'm not getting younger and I want to be there when my d'Arcy nephew comes into the world!"

"She wants to marry with her family present and so do I." grumbled Charles who was quite sure that his opinion was of no interest to his grandmother.

"Well we'll have to get you en route soon… Where did you say they were?"

"Probably still in Paris" said Charles. "But we can't be sure they could already be on their way back to London or to Cardiff… I'd have to send an inquiry."

"Do it" said Ma. "We are in a hurry."

"No, we are not" hissed Charles while facing the closing door.

* * *

"Stop harassing him" said Kitty while rummaging through the family chronicles. They were in Latin so she was able to grasp a few sentences every now and then.

"I'm not harassing him" grumbled Ma. "I'm scolding him for his less than efficient way to handle his love life."

"Jane is the most beautiful woman on earth."

"Well than he should have grabbed her while she was available! And stop crying over himself when he messed it up!"

"He's not."

"You're too biased to have a sound judgment in this matter. He's perhaps a genius in money making but he sure is an even greater genius in hurting himself." She shook her head. "Men… Will they ever grow up?"

"I prefer them that way, Geoffrey d'Arcy is the only one I know who acts like a real grown-up. And I prefer Charles manifold. I wouldn't be able to manage Geoffrey." She made a face. "He can be frightening."

Ma looked at her and tilted her head sideward.

"You think your sister is able to manage him?"

Kitty didn't hesitate.

"Of course she does."

"Well than it is as it should be!" answered Ma with a smile. "God put her in his path just to get him under control! We wouldn't want too powerful loose cannons running around, now would we?"

Kitty giggled.

"No we wouldn't" agreed she. "So what is next on our agenda?"

"I need to meet those granddaughters of mine" said Ma. "As it seems they need a mother figure to coach them rightly. And so does probably the rest of the family."

"You'll have to compete with aunt de Bourgh to get that role" warned Kitty. "And she's not a kind person."

"Neither am I, girl. Don't get yourself wrong, I'm the nastiest piece of mischief you'll ever encounter and if I'm not nasty with you it's because I like you. Wouldn't I be liking you you'll spend your days crying."

"I'm not the crying sort."

"That's why I like you! This family needs strong-willed and feisty women. Guess we just got us a bunch!"

She stood and went to the door.

"Get yourself ready, lass, we're moving!"

"Who's moving?" asked Kitty. "And where to?"

"We're going to London and it will be the three of us. For now… The rest will follow as soon as we know what to do with them!"

"What rest?" asked Kitty while standing up and closing the books.

"The whole rest" shouted Ma from the other room. "Seems the Biornas just ended with their Irish chapter!"

* * *

"What do you mean she comes with us?"

Kitty couldn't stifle a laugh.

"As in 'coming with us'! There is no other way to describe what's going to happen. She'll climb into our carriage and stay with us until we arrive in London!"

"Out of the question" said Charles. "I came here to see the members of my lost family, that's all. I have no intention to take them with us."

"I wouldn't want to crush your confidence" added Kitty with a smile, "but I'm quite sure you haven't a say in this matter. She wants to come and as I see it she'll get what she wants."

Charles shook his head and clenched his fists.

"I shouldn't have come" grumbled he. "First thing I do when in London I'll throw out my brother in law. Without him I'd never have looked at this side of the Irish sea! And I would be better off!"

Kitty joined him and was soon in his arms.

"Come on" whispered she. "It doesn't really matter. I even like her. She's such a greater than life figure. I'm rather anxious to witness her first encounter with Jane or Lizzie. And imagine the show when she and Catherine de Bourgh clash together for the first time."

Charles couldn't help but shook his head.

"What scares me shitless is the perspective of those two finding a common ground and going on in unison."

Even Kitty's smile didn't resist to that vision of the future.

* * *

Of course she was sitting right in front of him in his carriage and doing as if it would be hers.

"Don't sulk in such a manner, boy. I said I'll come you had no chance not to have me aboard. And thanks to me we'll save a lot of time."

"I was in no hurry" said Charles. "And I had a few appointments in Dublin. We have investments to discuss with the new government."

"Send an underling, he'll be in time for the decision making when he arrives two months from hence. Ireland won't have a government for quite a long time, you'd just waste your time. No, you need to get me to London where we can make the real decisions for the family."

"I came to greet you" protested Charles. "It was never my intention to move the whole Clan from our Irish home land."

"It's not our home land. Our home land is congealed under innumerous inches of ice somewhere in Sweden. We left it without regret a thousand years ago and now we are leaving Ireland. With no more regrets I'd add."

"You can't just leave."

"You'll send an underling to manage the lands and the houses and you'll invest the money in one of your factories to make us all rich."

Charles was at the brink of an outburst when Kitty grabbed his hand.

He looked at her and he saw her smile. It calmed him and he smiled back.

"How many people are we speaking of, Ma?" asked Kitty when she was sure that her Fiancée was again ready to have a normal conversation.

"If we get everybody, which I doubt, we could be two thousand. We will probably have to abandon half of them around Rosscolban, since I fear there are some whose Irish blood will root them in place. Only the real Vikinger will have the guts to move for another trip abroad."

Charles forced himself to stay calm.

"So we speak about a thousand people..."

"More or less one hundred" agreed Ma. "The county is becoming overcrowded and we have had more and more problems to feed everybody through the last winters. With a thousand mouths out of the lands of the Clan it will be for the best."

"We still have to find a place where to settle this bunch of people." protested Charles who was not very convinced of his grandmother's scheme.

"There are plenty of places to choose from" answered Ma. "We have the whole of French America or we have all the lands still under English rule. We could choose to join those of us who are already in Australia. You said yourself that there are a lot of opportunities in these new lands."

"I said there were opportunities to invest," corrected Charles. "We never envisioned a mass migration."

"You never asked." countered Ma. "And wouldn't it be better to make said investments in a country where members of the family are in place to survey and support?"

"Indeed it would but such a migration would be a major endeavor. We would need to transport not only the people but the livestock, the tools and the seedlings… It would need huge sums."

"You would refuse to finance us?"

And the tone was very set on not accepting a 'yes' answer…

But Charles was discovering that he had somewhere deep within a backbone much firmer than he would have believed.

"If it seems like a loss of money and energy, I'll just do that: refuse to even consider it!"

He and his grandmother locked eyes and there was a very long strenuous silence in the carriage.

It was Ma who accepted defeat.

"Well," said she, "then we'll just have to make sure that it is neither, won't we?"

* * *

"Do we agree, my Lady?" asked the chairman with a tired voice.

"Of course we agree" answered Lady de Bourgh. "It was my position five hours ago, remember?"

The chairman sighed lengthily.

"Of course we remember, my Lady! Five hours ago you were the only one who was against Mr. Farrel's proposition."

"Which was as idiotic five hours ago than now, so I'm quite glad that you finally recognized that I was right! Can we finally go on to next topic on the agenda?"

The chairman shot her an amazed glance.

"I believe we'll let the night pass before we go on to the next topic, my Lady. It's two in the morning and we are all rather tired."

Lady de Bourgh looked around her and puffed!

"Come on, are we old women to quit so early? The night is young and we are just beginning with the interesting stuff. I'm sure we could get those five points done in no time as we wanted yesterday afternoon."

"The session is closed" announced the chairman with a loud bang. "We'll go on this afternoon!"

Within three minutes everybody was out of the theater but lady de Bourgh and the chairman.

He came to help her exit the hall.

"You're as tired as I am, my Lady, you would never had last an hour more."

"Had you tried me, you'd seen that I have treasures of energy in reserve. But, you are right, I'm tired and I'll never let them see it, my Lord. Grinding their confidence is half winning the fight."

He accompanied her to her apartments.

"Would you be kind enough to answer a last question?"

She snickered at him.

"You want to know why I fought that idiotic proposition with such energy?"

He nodded.

"Apart from it being a very idiotic and improper proposition?"

He nodded once more.

"Simply because I didn't want to let anyone in the Assembly believe that I wouldn't fight to the bitter end if I want something. The next point on the agenda is, in my opinion, the most important point of the whole session."

"The place of women in Wales Politics."

Lady de Bourgh shook her head.

"It's the place of women in Wales. If I fight this battle as it must be fought I will get for us females equal rights in all levels of the society. Not only politics! That has already been agreed to in that acceptation letter of yours! I want more for us, much more."

The Chairman couldn't help but show its perplexity.

"But Farrel's proposition was only about sewers."

"Yes and he should never had brought his proposition before this assembly. He would probably had gotten a few years tranquility had he tried and bribed dubious public servants. But trying very foolishly to prevent the building of sewers in Welsh towns just because he owns most of the garbage collecting squads in the whole land was a very idiotic move on his part. He was trying to use his presence in the Assembly to foster his own interest against the interest of the community. Such a thing cannot be accepted if we are to look like having the public interest in mind."

She looked at the chairman and her smile became feral.

"I know quite well that he bribed everybody –but me- to get his little point through the Assembly. And even if I would have thrown him out of my window if he would have proposed a bribe I was rather angry to have been left on the side. So I had to make him pay."

The chairman looked at her, doubts in his eyes, and she finally relented.

"Of course I also did it to send a message."

"That you ever won't roll over!"

"Exactly, Mr. Chairman. Today I have shown that even on a rather minor point I'll be fighting to the very end without ever lowering my guard. Tomorrow when we attack those important points I shall already have delivered my most important message: what I want; I want and if it takes me years to get it, I'm game."

He smiled and brushed her hand with his lips.

"I'm impatient to see the battle, my Lady."

Catherine de Bourgh bowed her head to acknowledge the compliment.

"It will be bloody and merciless, you can count on me."

"I count on you, my Lady. I count on you."

* * *

"My Lady" said her companion when she entered her apartment. "You are late."

"Late and tired" admitted Lady de Bourgh, "but I'm more alive than ever before. I'm..."

"Ah, here you are" shouted Morrisson, the doctor her daughter had charged of looking after her. "And, once more, you didn't listen to my prescriptions."

"The session wasn't finished and we hard working members of the Gentry have responsibilities."

"You hard working members of the Gentry will soon have a hole in the ground where we the leaches of the people will bury your old and worn out carcass."

"Morrisson, I never felt better in my whole life! I'm alive and butting heads with more idiots than I thought could exist on one planet."

The doctor forced her to lie down and began his examination.

"The fact that you enjoy what you are doing is a good thing but it won't give you extra stamina. You're still an old woman whose life is coming to its end. There are young people who work less than you do. It's not reasonable!"

Lady de Bourgh snorted.

"What has reason to do with what I'm doing? I'm writing the future of Great Britain, here and you urge me to rest. My grave will be my resting place."

"If you die before having been able to put your reforms into place they'll never be implemented and you'd have died for nothing!" He looked her in the eyes. "I don't care seeing you up till three in the morning but I care about you getting enough sleep and fresh air!" He finished his exams and smiled at her.

"Well it seems that those rumors about bad seeds are right. You're in excellent health even if I don't like your heart beat's shadow sound. I want you in bed immediately and tomorrow morning even before eating I want you to walk an hour in the gardens. We need to give your blood enough oxygen to feed that energy of yours!" He looked her in the eyes. "If necessary I'll force you to go!"

"You're welcome to try" snickered lady de Bourgh. "Nothing better than a good fight to begin a day!"


	51. Discussing the future

**Chapter fifty one : Paris Discussions**

* * *

**Paris, Sunday the 21****st**** of October**

* * *

Darcy looked at the little group who had responded to his call.

There was, of course, his father in law whose advice he was more and more welcoming.

Then there was Lord Abercranby whose arrival had been late but not late enough to fail to be part of the events having led to the signature of the Peace Treaty and at his side Lord Fox who had accompanied the Welsh delegation to become the Welsh Ambassador and who now was more or less acting as the Ambassador of the British Islands.

"Please take seats, gentlemen, we have important matters to discuss."

He looked at Abercranby.

"I hope my father in law's presence is not a problem… If nec…."

"No, it is not" said Abercranby. "I had the privilege to speak with Mr. Bennet and his opinion is sound even if biased against the House of Hannover."

"Which should no longer be a problem" added Fox who was a little rotund man with an easy smile and a fine sense of humor.

"Indeed, indeed" agreed Abercranby while taking the seat in front of Darcy, Darcy's father to his left and Fox to his right. "What do you have in mind, your Majesty."

"My wife is rather adamant that being the first to know that England will be free in the next months I should use my up time to think about solutions for the British Islands." He shook his head. "I'm not sure it would be welcomed by the British ruling class. I'm nob..."

"You're the King of Wales" interrupted Fox forcefully. "You're not nobody! You're as of now the only British Monarch in exercise and that's the only important thing you have to keep in mind. You will perhaps get your neck out of the noose but I wouldn't bet half a penny on it. With the demission of both Hannovers there's an awful hole in the power structure and I'm quite sure that within weeks the whole military community will flock around you."

"But I'm not their sovereign."

"Yes you are" insisted Fox. "Look at it from a practical side. Now that George the Third has not only abdicated but has renounced to the Throne in the name of his family you are the only non-French authority who's in place in Great Britain."

"The Stewart in Scotland?"

Both Abercranby and Fox made a face as if they would have bit in a lemon.

"He's not yet crowned that idiot" said Fox with an upset frown. "And as I see it his lust for power will cost him dearly. Till now the Scots had only one alternative: his rule or d'Arcy's! Now with the French promise to evacuate the Islands his subjects are no longer crunched between Scylla and Charybdis. They could choose to come back into the Union." He made a face. "Of course they'll have demands but I'm quite sure those demands could be steered into being quite reasonable. Much more reasonable since they have witnessed Stewart's claims."

Darcy was quite amazed.

"So you believe we could recreate the United Kingdom?"

"Indeed" said both politicians. "And you are the pivot around which this new United Kingdom could rotate."

"No I'm not, I'm onl..."

"Please" insisted Abercranby. "Stop hiding your head in the sand! You are, right now, the only man everyone in Great Britain can trust! You swore in your solemn oath that you'd abdicate the day Great Britain had a chance to be born again, you did at no moment try and force yourself into a throne and you have obtained that the French release us."

"That achievement should go to Jane not to me" grumbled Darcy. "I've done nothing to deserve any praise!"

"Don't lessen yourself in such a manner, Darcy" said his father in law. "You could have chosen the easy non-committal path. Staying rich Darcy of Pemberley, brother to the real master of the Islands and happy husband to a beautiful wife. Nobody would have reproached you to prefer the easy and lazy life of the privileged in-law! You rose to the challenge offered and you chose to act even if it forced you to move to a country where, even if you like it, you would never have chosen to establish yourself!" He shook his head at his son in law's self-diminishing. "And that's exactly why most of England's commanders and officers will flock to you. You've shown that you are a man who accepts responsibility and who's ready to act swiftly to lessen the impact on the people. That's a trait of character I've always looked for in a leader. I'm sure my fellow officers will see it quite in the same way!"

Abercranby thanked Edward Bennet with a smile.

"We are very conscious of the role _madame_ d'Arcy had played in last weeks' events. And we are quite sure that her husband's willingness to let go of England was her doing. And we will, when there is a possibility to honor her actions without giving the impression to bow to her husband, give her everything we can to thank her. But for the time being this is a political decision we have to make and you are the only one who has the right status to make it! You've been chosen to be King by every Welsh member of the Parliament. You have been crowned by the Archbishop of Canterbury and you've pledged an oath to restore the United Kingdom. There is nothing which doesn't reinforce your lawfulness as the ruler, be it temporary, the British Islands need!"

Darcy was quite amazed by the demonstration.

"So, if I hear you out, there is nothing to discuss. Since I'm the only crowned King on the British Islands I'm the one who has to rule while a new system is built."

Fox and Abercranby exchanged a look. They were quite satisfied with their new ruler even if, when it came to self-confidence, there was still a lot to do.

"That's it, your Majesty. And that's it only because you changed the oath you gave. Had you only swore that you'd serve the people of Wales to the best of your abilities, you'd be only that: the King of Wales. But since you chose to swear to uphold the tradition of the United Kingdom and to bow to the next ruler the Islands would place on the united thrones you became the defender of said United Kingdom and while there are discussions about the UK's future you're the only one to have the clout to mend the shop!"

* * *

"How do we organize the transition?" asked Lizzie. "It's quite clear that Fizwilliam will have to step in George's shoes as soon as possible. The more we hesitate, the more we will run the risk to see opportunists try and grab for power."

"I really don't believe that to be a real problem," said Jane. "Not while Lebrun and Geoffrey are still responsible for the temporary administration. They won't let anybody mess around during the transition. Most people will be very happy to just wait the next months out. Those who want to shake the system will be dealt with swiftly by the French and Fitzwilliam will even have the possibility to intervene to save them if they run a risk to be executed… He'll have ample time to find his marks. It's all for the best, I think."

"Are we not way over our head here?" asked Mrs. Bennet. "I know he is family, I know we already pressured him to accept the Throne in Wales but what make us believe that we have the right to choose England's next King?" She shook her head. "God, girls, three months ago I was scared to end my life in the hedgerows pushed out of my house by cousin Collins and now I'm here playing Kingmaker with my daughters? When did reality just become fantasy? I cannot believe what we just said."

"Three months ago everything was different, mama" said Jane. "And we were simple people in a little town buried in Hertfordshire. Look around us, mama. We are in the middle of Paris, yesterday evening Lizzie and I spoke hours about female rights with the Czarina Elizabeth Alexeievna while Fitzwilliam was up to par with the Czar of all Russia. We are in another reality, that's for sure and in that reality we have enough impact to have a say on England's future." Her eyes lost some of their compassion. "But we can also step down and let others make all the decisions. Are we ready to accept that?"

She and her mother shared a long look and, finally, Mrs. Bennet nodded in agreement. Jane could see that it was half-hearted but it was an acceptation.

"Well let's come back to Lizzie's question" said Mrs. Bennet. "Alright Geoffrey and Lebrun mend the shop and make the unpopular decisions but it will only last so long. Soon they will be gone and we will have to live with a new, or not so new, political system. Even if we would like it, it's not sure Fitzwilliam will still be at the helm in two years' time."

"And if I judge him well, he won't help us," said Lydia. "He would love it to be back at Pemberley, I suppose."

"Indeed" answered Lizzie. "I'm not even sure he believes me when I say that he will be at the center of the system these next months. His first thought has been to quit everything and go back to Pemberley while the new structures emerge."

"Sometimes he's rather dense, isn't he?" asked Lydia with a little ironic smile which got her a dark look from every other female in the room.

"He's not quite ready, that's all" said Mrs. Bennet. "Three months ago he was still battling his feelings for Lizzie and now he's facing a decision which could make him the next King of the United Kingdom."

"Why the conditional?" asked Mary. "I don't see anybody who could prevail against him in present circumstances."

"There will be others to want the throne," said Lizzie, "and I fear Fitzwilliam is only too willing to let it out of his hands."

"We can't force him" reminded Jane. "If he really dreads this prospect it is his right to step down and let another take his chance."

"And we get another George as a ruler?" cried Lydia. "I do find him rather dense sometimes but he is a genuine gentleman with real ethics and a real commitment. He's perhaps not the best ever but he is in my opinion the best available!"

As did her first remark that one did ignite a few black glances coming at her. But as usual she didn't seem to notice.

"If he isn't convinced it will be difficult to have him accept what he believes he can dodge" sighed Lizzie.

"It's perhaps not a lost battle, Lizzie" said Jane with more hesitation than usual. "I still have the Geoffrey card to play. I'm sure that if my husband does utter a few doubts about Fitzwilliam's aptitudes to reign, it could erase quite a few of your husband's hesitations."

"That would be downright manipulation!" protested Lizzie who was still a little peevish about the Peaks episode and d'Arcy's doing in that matter.

"But it would give us what we want." said Mrs. Bennet.

"Do we really want him King against his wishes?" asked Mary. "I have already said it; I do believe he would be perfect at that place but can a King be king against his will? What would happen if we force him and he resents us for it?"

"What we want is the best King possible" said Lydia. "And as of now I don't see any other valuable candidate showing his nose apart from Geoffrey who is, for reasons evident, out of the race!" She sighed. "I have roamed all the chronicles where our most interesting aristocrats are described. And I must say that it didn't convince me to take them as a husband! So I even more don't want them as a King!"

"We should just show support" said finally Mary. "Let him know that for us he is the best candidate but that, whatever he decides, we are behind him! I'm sure his own sense of responsibility will have much more impact on his final decision than any nagging from us or manipulating through Geoffrey." She looked at her sisters and her mother. "Do we have trust in Fitzwilliam? That's the only question worth to get an answer here. And if the answer is 'yes' than let it be him who decides!"

* * *

"What will happen in England, now" asked Cambacérès who was visibly unhappy. "We had them by the balls and now we let them walk?"

"It is better this way" said Napoleon. "England is no longer a threat and won't be for quite a few more years. I needed them out of the game, they are out of the game. And d'Arcy's right we will win a lot more by setting them free than by forcing them to be good French citizens."

"It could have happened" insisted Cambacérès. "The way the invasion has succeeded has stunned most of the opposition. And with the no pillage policy we were winning a real support."

"I agree with you" said d'Arcy. "But to win over all of the English population it would have necessary to follow the same policy for quite a few years. Meaning thousands of soldiers garrisoned everywhere."

"And that's not possible. Not with the great Mediterranean War we launch next spring: I'll need all my armies behind me. D'Arcy is sure that he'll get the transition peacefully over with only his special forces and the gendarmes."

"He is probably right, they have only to wait eighteen months and we are out of the land. They would be very foolish to try an uprising!"

"Foolishness is the greatest unlimited quantity in the universe" said d'Arcy. "And that's why I'll get all my special forces out of Ireland this winter and discreetly ship them back to England. They'll deal with the fools even before said fools have uttered their first stupidity."

"I prefer them in England than anywhere on French territory" grumbled Cambacérès.

"That has always been part of the deal. My special forces are to be used as forward scouts before invasions and as counter insurrection forces in occupied lands. They don't have a reason to be anywhere near stable French ruled lands."

"Won't we need them in Syria?"

D'Arcy looked at Napoleon to let him give the answer.

"We will have other assets there" said Napoleon finally. "D'Arcy's special forces have been trained to infiltrate European countries. They would be too easy to spot in Anatolia. Which doesn't mean that we will not have quite the equivalent there."

D'arcy made a face.

"What we will get is way less that my special forces" protested d'Arcy. "I have spent a whole year training in person most of the men I wanted to send to England before shipping them out. Those forces we will have in Anatolia are natives who want to oust the Turks out of their land… I could have trained them to be very efficient assassin squads who could have killed thousands of the Sultan's officers and public servants. But so soon we will probably only have thousands of insurgents who won't be able to hold against the structured forces of janissaries we have seen the Sultan throw at us. If they begin to regroup or if they act too soon they are just dead!" He sipped at his glass. "I hate to waste good people just because we haven't been able to train them correctly!"

Napoleon lifted his glass at d'Arcy.

"I have known you a lot blood thirstier, d'Arcy. That wife of yours is transforming you in a pacifist!"

D'Arcy acknowledged his Consul's compliment and lifted his own glass at the Consuls.

"I always hated it to throw away lives but I must admit that my wife's a resolute devotee of bloodless battles." He smiled to himself. "And even if they weren't totally bloodless I'm quite satisfied about the tiny body count both my invasions brought up."

"You invaded Ireland without informing us." hissed Cambacérès who was waiting for an overture since the beginning of the meeting.

"And I got all the surprise I needed" countered d'Arcy. "Had I informed you, then Duvoyer, your private secretary who works since last April for the Prussians would have informed his masters and the Brits would have been able to evacuate most of their troops, not to speak of their King." He smiled at the Second Consul. "I would have taken Dublin and liberated Ireland nevertheless but we would never had been able to capture the King and his son and get them to sign the peace treaty."

"You would have pursued them."

"No he wouldn't'" said Napoleon. "I had already decided to call back most of my armies. The message was just going to be sent when I heard that his armies had already boarded." He looked at d'Arcy. "I was quite sure that his spies had informed him of my decision and that he was doing it to take the wind out of my sails." He answered to d'Arcy's smile with a smile of his own. "But one thing's sure those armies are not staying in Ireland for more than a few months and as soon as we have enough ships they sail toward the Mediterranean sea! All of them and I'll take them under my personal command to strike at the Turks!"

Cambacérès who was a strong believer in Peace and who was the Sultan's man in Paris, made a face.

"Why are we striking the Turks? We have a truce with them that lasted for years now."

"They never accepted to sign a peace treaty" countered Napoleon. "So legally we are still at war and the Czar wants to liberate Constantinople. We, as good Christians, have a sacred duty to liberate those sullied Christian lands."

"You're an atheist like me." grumbled Cambacéres.

"Which is the highest crime in the Moslems' punishment scale," said d'Arcy. "Every one of them has the sacred duty to kill the unfaithful dog you are. We are speaking religious fanatics here, they will swear to God that they are your friends just to get you from their throats but as soon as they have a chance they'll backstab you with gusto and without remorse… We are speaking Crusades against Djihad. It is time we remind them that we are able to master the concept of holy war as efficiently as them. With the little difference that it won't be a 'holy' war but a war to pull out bigotry and religious fanaticism and promote civilization, reason and tolerance to their enslaved subjects… We are the enlightened future and they are the dark superstitious past."

"We have devoted Muslims in our own ranks." reminded Cambacérès.

"And that's exactly why we will never speak in such a manner when in public" said Napoleon while frowning at d'Arcy. "We are no atheist, we, as d'Arcy said, are men who thrive to bring enlightenment and tolerance in the world. We don't condemn people for having a faith but we don't give to any faith a better place than to the others. For us religion is a private dealing, a matter of conscience, not a matter of public debate. We have shown in Egypt that we accept the Muslim faith and that we are willing to include Muslims in all levels of our Governmental and administrative structure. We have proven that we respect them and they respect us in return. They fight with us in return! That's proof enough for me that by following d'Arcy's policy we do the right thing!"


	52. Spies and Threats

**Chapter fifty-two : Paris Spies and Threats**

* * *

**Paris, Sunday the 21****st**** of October**

* * *

"Of course Wilhelm you go on seeing her" said the Czarina. "That is a very close family if I ever saw one. They discuss everything together and if there's a way to get insight in what d'Arcy's preparing it's through her that it flows for us."

"I'm no spy."

"No you are better than that" said the Czar. "You are a Prince of a Royal Lineage and as such you have the duty to serve the family. She doesn't do anything else… It's part of the job!"

Wilhelm sighed and looked at his cousin who wasn't really his cousin but who, being a King was his brother's cousin, a King himself.

"And don't give yourself too much importance" added the Czarina. "D'Arcy has seen you speaking with her. He knows exactly what we will try and he will see with her that she doesn't blabber about State secrets with you."

"Then why should I going on with this scheme?"

The Czar snorted.

"Because she will be the vector for d'Arcy and perhaps even Napoleon to give us discreetly the information we need."

"She could be a vector of false information" protested Wilhelm. "Were I d'Arcy I would use her to do just that."

The Czar shook his head and tapped his young ward on the shoulder.

"We are allies for now, Wilhelm. Napoleon wants me to attack the Turks."

"I was thinking you wanted him to attack the Turks." said Wilhelm with a frown.

Alexander shot him an angry look and Wilhelm shut his mouth.

"Napoleon wants to recreate the Roman Empire around the Mediterranean Sea" said the Czar in that slow and ponderous tone who could grate on anyone's nerves. It _did _grate on Wilhelm's nerves. "And I, and your brother and the Emperor of Austria we prefer seeing Napoleon going to war toward the south than looking at us! So, of course I want him to attack the Turks because it is the safe war for all of us in Europe."

Alexander sighed and looked at his wife.

"And thank God that that idiot George is out of the game. With his obsession about Napoleon he was driving us directly toward a confrontation against the French. I have no doubt that we would have won in the end but we would have fought battles in Europe for the next twenty years."

"Now England's France's puppet… Is it better?" asked Wilhelm.

The Czar made a face.

"It could have been" nodded the Czar. "But with the peace treaty everything's changing. I spoke with the King of Wales. Interesting man… Very conscious of his limits and even more conscious that he should never have accepted the Throne of Wales but very interesting nevertheless."

The Czarina lokked at him "You believe he won't be his brother's puppet?"

The Czar shook his head.

"He is in a bad case of hero worship and he considers himself so much less than his brother –which by the way he is because if there is one man in whole Europe that really scares me then it is Geoffroy d'Arcy- but he is no fool and duty is his one and only foible. That is a man whose word you can count on. He won't make decisions swiftly and without pondering every consequence but once engaged he won't cheat on his word. Never."

He smiled at his wife.

"And even if he admires d'Arcy –and so do I- he knows very well that he's not at a par with his ominous brother. So, no, he won't be d'Arcy's puppet and he will always ponder his brother's advice. He knows that d'Arcy has his own agenda and he knows that said agenda is not totally in favor of Great Britain. So he knows that he will probably end on the UK throne because of his brother's schemes but that won't make him his obligee. If we show ourselves to be trustworthy he'll be a faithful and loyal ally."

The Czar shook his head as if to wake up.

"Let's come back to Napoleon who wants me to attack the Turks!"

He looked at Wilhelm.

"Let's see if your teachers have been up to their responsibility. Why does Napoleon want me to attack the Turks?"

Wilhelm made great efforts not to look towards heaven. He hated it when his brother did it and now the Czar was doing the same. He was eighteen years old and no longer a school boy! He was a general, by God…

"Well, general" insisted the Czar with a sarcastic smile. "How would you analyze the situation?"

"He wants to be sure that your troops are occupied somewhere which doesn't present a risk for France and his allies."

"Indeed" approved the Czar. "We both know that we have divergent interests and that's a good beginning in a political relationship. So we both need to be sure that by following those diverging interests we don't open our flank to a surprise attack from our dear ally."

"And so" said Wilhelm, "next Spring you attack Walachia."

The Czar shook his head.

"No, I attack the Ottoman Empire at their Walachian Border" corrected the Czar. "And I do it there because my Slavic brethren suffer under the Ottoman's yoke and because it is my duty as a real Christian to free all those orthodox brothers from their Muslim Overlords!"

Wilhelm made a face.

"Well if I have guessed where you are going to attack, I'm quite sure that the Sultan will do the same. You'll have millions of Turks awaiting you."

The Czar smiled at his young ward.

"Perhaps not millions but I'm quite sure that the Sultan will have concentrated most of his armies there."

"And you're going to attack nevertheless?"

The Czar nodded.

"In this matter I will have no choice, my friend. Walachia has a Slavic orthodox population. They need to be freed by their powerful and benevolent great brother. With France having liberated Muslim Egypt and Syria I have no other choice but to do the same for a people who has the same faith and whose language is so near to mine that nobody can deny the parentage."

"But you'll lose thousands of your soldiers."

The Czar smiled at his young ward and called him toward the map table.

"So what would you do?"

"In your place?"

"Yes, what would you do to free my Walachian Brethren?"

Wilhelm took a long sip of air.

"I wouldn't" said he finally. He pointed toward the map. "I would attack in Armenia. Those are Christians too and they'll welcome us like brothers. Once Armenia solidly in my hands I would continue my attack westwards to control as much of the coasts of the Black sea as possible letting Napoleon take the Mediterranean coasts of Anatolia. The Sultan would never have the time nor the means to displace his troops toward Armenia. His only chance to bring them in fast would be by sea and there I believe those new ships of the line could come in handy."

"How do you know that?"

"I got a copy of your message to my brother. Those are my brother's standing orders when I'm on mission."

The Czar couldn't smother his laugh.

"Well it's always good to have smart allies. It is a shame that our cousin the Emperor of Austria is such a selfish fool. We could have coordinated our attacks against the Turks. They would have been overwhelmed in all their European possessions. And with Napoleon campaigning in Anatolia we could have eliminated the Turks once and for all."

"Franz will never interfere with the French. He hates Napoleon."

"Franz is an idiot who has been defeated by French Generals for the last ten years. Even he should recognize a pattern there… His armies are even less organized than mine! And that's a real achievement."

"What are you going to do about that?"

"I'll ask Napoleon to loan me a dozen of his generals… I have a list of those who have transformed his revolutionary rabble in Europe's most efficient fighting machine. I hope to be able to convince our new ally to help us."

"Will he?"

The Czarina, who had been silent for the mast minutes couldn't help but laugh.

"Of course he will! That man is a peacock. A genius of a peacock but a peacock nevertheless, he'll love it to loan you his best generals. Flatter him and bribe him and you'll get what you want… Just make sure that d'Arcy doesn't know about your scheme in advance. That one will never help you to build a better army. He knows what an alliance is really worth in the long term."

"I'm not so sure" said Wilhelm. "He will probably agree to it… He must know that in your present shape your armies are not able to stand against the French. He probably already knows how many troops you are going to lose in your Ottoman campaign. If he thinks that to win that war you need to be bolstered, he will probably agree to your demand. You should speak with him first."

* * *

"Of course I agree."

The Czar shot him a surprised look.

"I would have thought that..."

D'Arcy just smiled.

"That I would be petty and privilege the long term possibility of a war against you to the short term necessity to give you the means to win over the Turks?" He went to his study and took a file. "This is what I know about your armies, Your Majesty. I have an evaluation of all you officers who are either coming out your Aristocracy or who are above the rank of captain. And if I put everything into the balance with what I know about the Turks, I still see you win and take over Walachia."

The Czar frowned.

"So I could do it without the help of your generals."

"Taking Walachia? Of course you could. It will take you half a year and you'll lose half your army."

"And? What about the follow up of the campaign? The taking of Constantinople?"

D'Arcy made a face.

"Don't take me wrong. I'm no magician able to see the future. I look into the facts and try and analyze what is the most probable outcome of the clash of different armies. I consider that both you and the Sultan will have committed your best men to that campaign. If that is the case, you'll win and you'll pay dearly for the victory. You'll have Walachia and you'll spend the next few years reconstructing and defending it."

D'Arcy tilted his head and looked at the Czar.

"That's what will happen if Selim the Third sends his best commander. Which will probably not be the case! He will, in my opinion, consider that the Syrian front is the most dangerous place for his armies. So he'll send Mehmet Baba his best general to Anatolia –he's already there preparing the defense of Marash and Karanan- while he will send his uncle Abdulhamid to Walachia. Abdulhamid is not a good general but he is a very efficient manager and a man who believes that enough terror is the best way to smother any uprising. He'll supervise a defensive campaign where he'll make sure that the Walachians don't rise up to help you –dead men don't betray you has been his motto for quite a few years now- and that you won't get anything of value out of your invasion. So you'll finally push him out of Walachia. But you'll be the happy owner of a huge grave yard and innumerable ruins. And he will be on the other side of the Danube waiting to do just the same in Bulgaria, if you're still interested to throw your men into the meat grinder."

The Czar stood up and marched through the study.

"So what you say is that I won't even arrive at Constantinople?"

"If you pass through Walachia you'll be stuck there for the next ten years."

"What would you do in my place" asked the Czar.

"I would pass through Austria" answered d'Arcy with a smile. "They have only bad garrison troops on your border. They won't even try and stop you. You could be in Bulgaria within four weeks and get Abdulhamid between two of your armies. The perfect pincer and since Abdulhamid is not a good general he will panic. The campaign could be finished within one month and the path to Constantinople free of any valuable troops."

"But that would mean war with Austria."

D'arcy laughed out loud.

"And what? We were at war with Austria these last ten years and it has only brought us advantages. Campaigning against Austrian troops is an excellent way to train your generals and to give your armies a higher confidence. But don't count on it, in my opinion they won't even send an army to stop you. They'll just do as if they gave their good Russian friends authorization to pass through their lands and try a follow up in Transsylvania as soon as you're on your way to Istanbul."

The Czar looked at d'Arcy and could only shake his head.

"A viper is a benevolent creature compared to you, d'Arcy." hissed he.

"I'll take that as a compliment, your Majesty. I spend my days trying to convince my wife that I'm a real dangerous and unkind fellow but it is to no effect. She goes on believing that somewhere deep inside me there is a benevolent creature who believes in God and who lusts after good deeds."

It was d'Arcy's turn to shake his head.

"There's nothing like that anywhere in me. I've been in China for ten years and I have seen what true cruelty means. I've been a hired killer who never stopped at cutting the throats of women and infants… I know that humankind is not God's failed project but the Devil's success story!" His eyes became very dark and all trace of good humor vanished from his face. "I know what has to be done to get the success you want and praying has never been part of my preparations for a campaign."

He pointed toward a map of Europe.

"You want Constantinople? Than you use the easiest and safest way to get there! Be it through your friends' trust. They will soon forget your treachery if you show them that you are ready to do what must be done to get what you want! Success will be your best excuse. But if you are stuck with your armies in Walachia for the next ten years I can give you one prediction: all those best friends of yours will look at you, judge your possibilities to strike back at them and try and chop off as many parts of your Empire as they are able to! And if you want my opinion, the Austrians will go for it first!" He smiled a last time at the Czar. "And I'll make you one promise: if you're stuck in Walachia I'll come myself to make you a demonstration of how swiftly a man who knows what he wants can invade a country whose commander in chief is a fool!"

* * *

He was exiting the Louvre when he was intercepted by Napoleon's own private secretary.

Two minutes later he was with the French First Consul.

"I heard you spoke with d'Arcy" said Napoleon. "And if I'm a good judge of character it didn't went as well as you hoped!"

The Czar immediately exploded!

"He threatened me! He threatened to invade my Empire!"

Napoleon snickered.

"You're lucky, me he threatened to kill the first time we met and without my very real talent with words I would probably have been fish food for a few years now."

"That man is insane… Who does he believe he is to speak to me in such a manner?"

Napoleon's smile disappeared.

"To begin with he is First Proconsul of France" answered Napoleon. "And that gives him enough power and clout to look eye in eye with most of Europe's rulers. To place him on another scale all Aristocrats I know seem to love above all, his blood goes back to Wilhelm the Conqueror and he is one of the most titled members of Europe's nobility. His ancestors were already Dukes when Russia was only a Lithuanian province."

Napoleon looked Alexander in the eyes and his frown gave him a very serious look.

"What is even more important; he is the most dangerous man we've ever encountered, Alexander. The day he and I met in Cairo I was just being attacked by a score of thugs who wanted me dead. I killed one and my body guard killed another and then he jumped in the fray killing three of them with two sword strokes. I used the diversion he provided to run away as fast as I could. Ten minutes later he was jumping from a roof in front of me not even injured and covered with blood. None of it his."

He shook his head and bit his lips.

"He is the only man in Europe I do really fear. Believe me if I say that it's much better to have him on your side than as an enemy."

Alexander who was quite a sanguine character just snorted!

"I'll send him my best assassins, see how he reacts."

Napoleon's grin was soon back.

"Depends on his mood. Last time Fouché made an assassination attempt he had to move into another house. The blood of his twenty men protection squad splattered on his inlaid walls was impossible to clean up… Not to mention that Fouché was very shaken to find the heads of his assassins lying on his bed when he awoke the next morning… He's never quite been the same since!"

Alexander looked at Napoleon and saw that every word was the truth. He forced himself to breathe.

"So you say there's nothing to do?"

"D'Arcy has a lot of useful skills, diplomacy isn't one of them. When all is said he's a loose cannon but he is _my_ loose cannon" said Napoleon. "Before condemning a man who has shown very often, even if he is unable to show the proper respect, that he is trustworthy, let me know exactly what happened."

Alexander gave him an accurate report.

Napoleon's smile soon was back.

"As I see it he didn't threaten you… He really meant what he said. Remember _you_ asked him how he would do it. He gave you an honest answer and he has proven in Syria, in England and in Ireland that he is _the_ specialist when it comes to invading foreign countries. If nevertheless you still go on with your initial battle plan and become stuck it will be proof enough that you are an easy target and the temptation to terminate you would be very high."

Napoleon's eyes became hard as flint.

"And to be frank, if you really become stuck in Walachia, I'd be tempted too!"


	53. Dreams and Nightmares

**Chapter fifty-three : Paris Princes Dreams and Nightmares**

* * *

**Paris, Sunday the 21****st**** of October**

* * *

"Do you use me to spy on d'Arcy?"

Wilhelm's smile grew to a very large grin.

"Of course" admitted the Prince. "I just this morning got a rehearsal about spying Princes and duty. So I'm here, of course against my will, trying to seduce you in order to get the information d'Arcy has given you because he wants us to know it."

"And you have information for me?" asked Lydia who was rather taken by the young man's humor and liveliness.

He shook his head and winked at her.

"Indeed I have but since I'm a steadfast German –which is, please note, more or less a redundancy- Prince I will only speak if you seduce me to more carnal activities."

He hadn't finished that he was pummeled by Lydia's handbag. Laughing he bolted behind the next best Armchair which he used as a shield while Lydia was turning around him her bag ready to strike.

"You are a German Satyr that's what you are! And since I'm a steadfast English Lady you can bury your illusions of ever seducing me."

He tried a look around the armchair's back and soon was hit by a well-aimed strike. He jumped back toward the sofa.

"You're quite efficient with your handbag, my Lady. That I must admit."

"Don't try to win back my favors by flattering me, Sir. I'm the last of five sisters and I know everything about falsity and duplicity. You won't prevail."

"We'll see" said he while trying to grasp at his foe's weapon. He failed and was soon pummeled into another retreat behind a standing set of armor.

* * *

"Papa?"

Mr. Bennet looked up and smiled at his eldest daughter.

"Yes dear, what can this frail and debilitated old man do for the epitome of youth who happens to be his daughter?"

She stuck out her tongue and looked around her if she could find something to hurl at him.

"Don't lapidate your poor old father, he surrenders."

"You're incorrigible, papa, I came to speak with you about serious matters."

He smiled at her and shook his head.

"Forget all serious matters and enjoy the life God has bestowed us! I'm happy, I know my daughters are happy and thanks to the most scheming son in law God has ever created a heavy weight that was squashing my conscience was just lifted and thrown away… No serious matter can be serious enough to thwart my joy and contentment."

She came nearer and pulled a chair next to his comfortable armchair.

He took her hand as soon as she was sitting at his side.

"What is troubling you, dear?"

"It's not easy to describe, papa" was the careful answer. "It's about a dream I had."

He looked at her with surprise in the eyes.

"And since when is this poor frail old Bennet a specialist in dreams?"

She shook her head in a vain effort to convey the seriousness of her questions.

"Since my dream is about me, Geoffrey and England!"

"What about England? The country will soon get rid of the French. The Hannover dynasty has already been thrown out of History and, if I'm not totally a fool the next King will be a real asset for the country. England will be quite well, thank you… No need to worry any longer about it."

Jane's face was soon obscured by a frown. A worried frown…

"I don't worry about England in itself" said Jane. "Even If I do worry because of the way we seem to force Fitzwilliam into becoming something he has no liking for, it is not that what worries me most."

Mr. Bennet stopped smiling and pulled his daughter nearer to him.

"What is it, dear, that worries you?" whispered Edward Bennet.

"In that dream." she sighed and hesitated. "It was a dream not a nightmare but it should have been a nightmare because I saw myself alone in England." She bit her lips. "I often dream of us and he is always at my side. Always! And in this one I was there but he wasn't at my side… I was alone." She looked at her father and couldn't help but shake her head. "And I wasn't desperate; I wasn't crazy with worry… I looked at my feelings and I was amazed because I was content."

She squeezed her father's fingers. "How can I be content without him at my side?"

Mr. Bennet took his daughter's face in his hands and forced her to look him into the eyes.

"Do I get this right? You are worried because in your dream you were not worried?"

She made a face.

"I know it sounds crazy but it is just that. How can I be content without him at my side? I know I'm no longer able to live without him at my side and being content without him is just impossible." She sighed and let herself been pulled against her father chest. "I'm lost."

Mr. Bennet forced himself to stay silent for a few seconds. It wouldn't help to let irony stain his next words. Clearly his daughter was very upset and her mood wouldn't improve with him making foolish remarks.

"Let's look at it without pouring too much intellect in the problem, shall we?"

He felt her frown.

"What I want to say is this, dear: you are, much more than Lizzie a person who's ruled by her heart. Do we agree?"

Jane took a long breath and sat up straight.

"If you want to express that I feel things much faster than I understand them, then you are right."

"So do we agree that a dream is much more about feeling than understanding?"

Jane closed her eyes to concentrate and couldn't help but nod.

"Yes, you are right; a dream is all about feeling and connecting on a sensitive level."

"So if in your dream you are not worried what does it mean?" He stopped her before she could answer. "And no longer loving or having feelings for you husband is not what that dream is expressing. I know as well as you know that you will love Geoffrey till the end of time and probably beyond. So in that dream you're still in love with Geoffrey and you're content even if you aren't able to see him at your side."

He looked her in the eyes.

"How old were you in your dream?"

"I was same as today" answered she. "Perhaps more visibly pregnant but the children were still unborn."

"So there is no doubt that it is in the immediate future."

She nodded.

"And if something should happen to him in the next days, weeks or months you would be shattered and desperate, wouldn't you?"

She nodded once more.

"And you are neither shattered nor desperate in your dream although you're sure that he is not at your side… How can you be so sure? He is perhaps on campaign with Napoleon against the Turks. Having seen what you're capable of, it would be normal for him to let you with Lizzie until you've given birth."

Jane denied vehemently not taking into account her father's veiled criticism.

"No, no… I thought about it but I know that would he be away to make war I wouldn't be content; I would be worried like never before. I just don't understand how I can be content while not at his side." She shook desperately her head. "It just doesn't seem right and it worries me."

Edward Bennet forced himself to stay calm. He was a very proud –and happy- father and he had had lots of occasions to be satisfied with what his daughters had done with their lives. Mary's latest 'success' being a reason more to be proud. But, from time to time, it was difficult, very difficult to have only daughters.

"Dear" said he finally. "You said that you believe that dreams were a way for you to connect on a very sensitive level with your feeling, am I right?"

"That's what I feel indeed."

"So that dream of yours could be a way for your intuition to channel you a message, couldn't it?"

She nodded.

"The message says two things: first you are alone, second you are content! I don't miss anything else, do I?"

"No" agreed Jane. "The dream says more but those are the two points that are worrying me."

"I'm sure you wouldn't be content if you'd had lost Geoffrey, do we still agree?"

"Indeed" said Jane. "I was satisfied with my life before my marriage but I'm content only since he made me his wife. For me it is a feeling which is directly dependent with his." She hesitated and blushed. "…presence!"

He kissed her on the brow and had some problems to fight back a few happy tears. Indeed he had been lucky with his daughters.

"So your dream states that you are content and that he is no longer at your side" he stopped her answer. "Don't answer too quickly, dear. Look at the contradictions this dream implies and keep in mind that a dream is sometimes a warning of what will come… And remember that your husband is not an easy man to understand. He has plans he never discusses with anybody, not even with you. Plans that could give outsiders the impression that he's no longer at your side… But if your heart says the opposite, who will you listen to?"

He forced her to look into his eyes.

"So please stop worrying where there's nothing to worry about. If your dream says that you are content then it is the feeling you need to concentrate upon. The rest is only a visual illusion placed there to give you an explanation but what you feel, that's what is important!"

* * *

"You look upset."

Fitzwilliam shook himself out of his daydreams and looked at his wife.

"I am." said he. "Everybody believes I'm the next King of Great Britain and nobody listens to me when I say that I don't want the Throne."

Lizzie came nearer and forced her husband to stand up and to take her into his embrace.

"The more you say that you don't want to be King, the more everybody is convinced that you are the perfect candidate" whispered Lizzie. "They are all very afraid of ambitious unscrupulous rulers. Hearing you saying that you don't want to be King is almost a guarantee that you are at least not unscrupulous… So the only thing we have to awake in you is your ambition for England."

"What do you mean, Lizzie?"

She took his hands and rested her head on his shoulder.

"What I'm going to say is not fair, Fitzwilliam and I know that I'm using the love we share to have an influence on your decision but I believe it necessary to say it. Will you let me speak?"

He nodded.

"First you must know that all the females of the Bennet family will support your choice whatever you'll chose in the end. We spoke about convincing you, manipulating you, even playing on your sense of duty to twist your decision but we finally accepted Mary's opinion that we do not have the right to push you in a direction you don't want to go."

She leaned back to look him in the eyes and his hands were immediately holding her back.

"But that won't mean that I'm not going to try a last time to convince you that England's in need of a ruler who happens to look a lot like the man I love and respect!"

"Here we disagree." whispered Fitzwilliam.

"I'll be happy to hear your arguments, dear." whispered she back. "Please let me know what it is that makes you a bad candidate for the Throne of England and which made you a correct one for Wales?"

"You're fighting dirty, my love. I knew I shouldn't have accepted to be crowned in Wales now it's your main argument to push me into accepting the throne of England."

"You accepted for the best reasons and those reasons are even more valid in England than they were in Wales."

"How so?"

Lizzie took his hand and pulled him toward their sofa.

"Let's speak about the King you believe England needs, dear. We already know that you consider yourself as unworthy so what's your ideal King and after you've defined his qualities you'll probably be able to give me the names of those ideal rulers who have those particular qualities aplenty!"

Fitzwilliam made a face.

"Of course I have no names… I don't even have a real idea of what qualities a King should have, I just know that I don't have them."

Lizzie kissed her husband and looked at him while smiling.

"Of course you don't have them because you just have decided that those qualities you have are not the qualities needed by a King." She frowned at him. "Could we please have a look at your qualities or have you just decided that you have none?"

Fitzwilliam looked toward the heaven.

"Lizzie, please, let us speak of something else."

She sighed.

"Alright, let's speak of something else." She stopped talking and waited.

After quite a long minute of an awkward silence Fitzwilliam finally admitted defeat.

"I'm not the right man, Lizzie. I'm just not the right man. I've had no suitable formation and I have no real experience. I feel inadequate."

Lizzie put her arms around him and embraced him.

"You can say that as long as you want, Fitzwilliam Darcy but be sure that you are the only one who believes that. A long time ago I believed you inadequate to be my husband and I was so wrong. I think that you are as wrong about your inadequacy now as I was those months ago." She looked him in the eyes and soon there was a loving smile on her lips. "I'm not impartial and I'm not a specialist in a King's qualities but you can trust me on one point: for me there is no better candidate than you. England will survive without you but England will be poorer in wealth and in spirit if you're not there to guide it to the future!"


	54. Gentry's summit

**Chapter fifty-four: Cardiff Gentry's Summit**

* * *

**Cardiff, Sunday the 21****st**** of October late evening**

* * *

Charles Howard the second,11th Duke of Norfolk sat at the table with a sigh. In the absence of the Duke of Cornwall, it was his job to chair the new founded Committee of Dukes which had been for these last weeks the think tank of the exiled Gentry in Cardiff.

Since they had really not very much to do while withering away in backward Cardiff he was not very surprised to have seen all the members present in Wales Capital at that time respond to his summon.

Were present around the table, Edward Adolphus St Maur, 11th Duke of Somerset, Charles Lennox, 3rd Duke of Richmond, Augustus Henry FitzRoy, 3rd Duke of Grafton, Henry Somerse, 5th Duke of Beaufort, Aubrey Beauclerk, 5th Duke of St Albans, Francis Russell, 5th Duke of Bedford , William Cavendish, 5th Duke of Devonshire, George Spencer, 4th Duke of Marlborough and John Henry Manners, 5th Duke of Rutland.

As usual it was Grafton who spoke first.

"You have news from Paris?"

Norfolk nodded and presented a letter.

"It was sent by Abercranby by express. Two days ago King George the Third and Napoleon signed a Peace Treaty in presence of the Czar of Russia and the King of Wales…"

"George was in Paris? How…" asked Devonshire.

"Captured by d'Arcy, of course" answered Bedford. "And I have no doubt that what Great Britain still owned is now in Napoleon's clutches."

"No need to speculate" interrupted Marlborough while looking at Norfolk. "What are the news Charles? What did we lose?"

"We lose Canada, Mauritius and the old French Indian trading posts…" answered Norfolk and before a new round of shouts could interrupt him he added: "But in eighteen months France abandons all pretentions on the British Islands and evacuates her troops and public servants. In eighteen months we get rid of the French!"

This time he didn't interrupt his pears while they were shouting their surprise.

After a few chaotic moments all participants slowed down and recovered their composure.

Grafton was the first to ask for silence.

"What can you give us more, Charles? What was exactly the bargain?"

"The best will be that I read you the report Abercranby has sent. So you'll know exactly what I know…"

They all agreed.

Half an hour later there was a thoughtful silence in the room.

It was Norfolk who took the floor.

"So gentlemen what do we do?"

"We prepare our return…" answered Marlborough. "What will happen during the eighteen months of the transition?"

"No idea" said Norfolk. "I know only what the letter says and I was as amazed as you when I got to read it the first time."

"Why would Napoleon accept to let England out of his clutches?" wondered Bedford.

"Probably because it wasn't in his clutches but in d'Arcy's!" said St Albans. "Napoleon didn't lose anything by giving us our freedom back but he gets himself an ally. By the terms of the treaty we are now allied to France."

They looked at each other.

"Why has d'Arcy given England up?" asked finally Bedford. "Could it be because of her?"

Norfolk couldn't help but shrug.

"I see no other explanations, he just throw us out of Ireland and he has the English mainland safe and secured. I was sure that we would have to wait decades before being able to launch a liberation war and now he just quits…"

"And Napoleon agrees?" wondered Marlborough.

"As said England was never Napoleon's looting ground as was Northern Italy. He has probably parts in this Gardiner Company but the land was never his to loot. And as we know quite well d'Arcy doesn't loot…" answered Norfolk.

"He stole our gold" grumbled Bedford…

"Which is now probably in Napoleon's hands" said St Albans. "D'Arcy had to pay a price and I see no other compensation he could have offered… As it looks like Napoleon has now a huge war chest and I have no doubts that he will use that money to launch another war…"

"I still can't fathom why this happened" said Somerset. "Giving up England because of a woman… That's utter foolishness."

"Well" snorted Marlborough, "luckily for us d'Arcy is not like you Somerset and he seems to be an utter fool when it comes to his wife's wishes. Wife's wishes who have granted England a freedom I wouldn't have hoped for for quite a few years in the future." He looked at his younger pear. "I, for my part, won't forget to thank her in the name of England for what she did. D'Arcy is perhaps a fool but since his foolishness follows her wishes that's more than we deserve!"

Somerset didn't answer and looked toward Norfolk.

"What do we do about the abdication? With what is written in this treaty we have no longer nor a King neither a dynasty…" He shook his head. "Had he even the right to renounce?"

Marlborough snorted a half-laugh.

"Yes that's a fine idea, we decide George couldn't renounce and we fight the treaty because we consider it null and void. So we can go on buying weapons in order to be able to liberate England in ten years…"

"That's not what he means" countered St Albans. "It is a real legal problem, can a King renounce in the name of his heirs?"

"We could always choose George the son as the new King…" snickered Rutland.

"No we couldn't" sighed Bedford who was renowned for having no sense of humor. "If we do this London will rise up. There was never a more despised Crown Prince. D'Arcy knew perfectly well what he was doing when he forced them to renounce. People will be delirious when they get the news."

"I don't know" said Beaufort, "but I see nowhere a hint about how the new King will be chosen…"

"I see nowhere that it must be a Monarchy…" said Marlborough.

"We need to get our hands on a copy of this treaty" grumbled Richmond. "While we have only a second hand report all speculation is senseless." He looked at Norfolk. "Can you get us a copy? We really need to study every paragraph of this text before we make any decisions."

"I've already asked to get one" answered Norlfolk. "But I have no idea how long it will take… I suppose the late George the Third will follow the normal procedure and send a copy to the Chairman of the House of Lords. And said Chairman will probably have copies made for each MP. But it could take a few days to have it in our hands…"

"And we need a copy coming from another source" insisted St Albans. "I have little faith in Newcastle's loyalty to the Crown. I'm not totally sure she doesn't like the present situation a little too much. And d'Arcy's choice of a woman as chairman is another of his foolish decisions made in order to please his wife."

"She is Newcastle's widow and still in England. It was a logical choice," said Norfolk.

"She shouldn't have accepted," grumbled Grafton. ""A woman has no place in Parliament…"

"Well" snorted Norfolk "that's a thing you better get yourself used to because as I see it we will have women in Parliament…"

"Over my dead body…" shouted Grafton.

"Well go and tell your version to Lady de Bourgh," snickered St Albans,. "aAnd it could very well happen that's exactly what you'll get. That woman is a scourge and she's way too resilient and smart to be ousted out of the Committees where she already has a say… I've been at yesterday's session of the Welsh Constitutional Committee and she has crushed all those petty nobles under her heal like they were bugs…"

"She's an old woman" said Bedford. "She won't last very long. Not with all the work she's doing. She has even a doctor who's looking at her twenty four hours a day. If it isn't the work that kills her, the doctor will surely get to the point!"

"I wouldn't bet on her death if I were you" said Grafton. "If we want to get rid of her, waiting to see her die of exhaustion is not the smartest move… We need to prepare and to choose a strategy…"

"We will do nothing of the sort" said Norfolk. "We are not here to waste time to get rid of another member of the gentry. She's a scourge and a curse but she's our ally in a lot of ways… And if I have to work with women to keep up the Kingdom as he is and to protect our privileges I'll do it without an afterthought. And Lady de Bourgh is smart enough to know where her interest lies, believe me…"

"What about d'Arcy's wife?" asked Bedford. "She has rather radical point of views when it comes to the rights of women… Will we let her spin her spells without interfering?"

The Duke of Norfolk couldn't help but shook his head.

"Gentlemen do you really believe this is the right moment to fight d'Arcy's wife? As soon as the news of this treaty is common knowledge she'll be seen as the main force behind England's freedom. And her popularity will increase tenfold. And if you grant me a little political clout let me say that she, just on her good looks and because of her fairy tale marriage, is already one of the most famous women in England. After _this_ is known she will be famous and influential and popular! I'm certain we will have difficulties to block her from being the next Queen… The only reason she won't get an overwhelming support to seize power will be her husband." He looked at his pears. "Don't get me wrong, d'Arcy has everything I'd love to see in a King. He's smart, he's dashing and he has that little something that pulls everyone to look up at him. He's probably the best candidate to the throne but not even he is cheeky enough to try and grab _that_ station considering his current position. He is perhaps William the Conqueror's last living heir and the feistiest man I've ever encountered, he's still the Froggy who invaded us… Never will he be able to get over that peculiar handicap!"

Bedford sighed lengthily.

"You won't believe me but, even if, in my opinion, he is a fool to let himself be manipulated by his wife, I would like to have a man like him at the Kingdom's wheel… Don't get me wrong I hate what he has done to us, and with this treaty he has even managed to rob us Aristocrats of the possibility to get back our honor and to regain our positions, but if all is said and done, I like that man's hubris. It would be fun to look at what he could do with what's left of our Empire…"

Norfolk nodded.

"Indeed it would be interesting but I don't doubt that with what's left of our Empire we have the means to recover. And to recover quickly! What we must do is close ranks! If we show even the least hint of dissension we will see dozens of currents come to life and it will take us decades to recover. If, on the contrary, we show a united front from the beginning, and that means from now on, we will strengthen our position and be able to get results faster!"

"What do we do about Darcy?" asked St Albans.

"Do we have a choice?" retorted Norfolk. "He's the only crowned ruler at this moment in what's left of the United Kingdom. And he has demonstrated a real political flair with that speech he has given at his coronation… We can't dismiss him now. Not with him at Alexander's and Napoleon's side at the treaty signing…"

"If you ask me" said Devonshire, "that's all d'Arcy's doing. He's his brother in law's puppet master."

"And?" asked Grafton. "Even if it is so, which I don't believe, it changes nothing at what we have to do! He's shown that he is a true supporter of the idea of a United Kingdom and since it is also what we want to show we have no choice but to support him…"

"As King of England?"

"If necessary" hammered Norfolk. "Don't forget the united front! He is the only crowned ruler on United Kingdom Territory. And he has been unanimously chosen by all Welsh MPs. Including you Richmond if I remember well. If he doesn't what to grab the Throne we won't force him, of course, but if he shows a real interest in mounting on Britain's throne we will have to support him."

"Do we even have a better candidate to present?" asked St Albans.

"You are right," said Somerset, "quite now I have no idea who would be better than Darcy. What's more his inexperience is an asset for us. He'll need our help and if we support him from the beginning he will probably trust us all the more…"

"What about d'Arcy in the background?" wondered Bedford.

"He'll have to move at least with the last French troops or public servants," answered Devonshire. "And in my opinion he'll be called back by Napoleon sooner than that! Even he can't do without a strategist of d'Arcy's importance. And once he's out of England he'll no longer have influence upon Darcy. Even if he comes to visit often he won't be here most of the time…" He smiled. "But we will…"


	55. Family Questions

**Chapter fifty-five: Paris Family questions**

* * *

**Paris, Monday the 22****nd**** of October**

* * *

"Fitzwilliam?"

"Yes, dear?" said Darcy while looking up at his wife. He was studying a report d'Arcy had given him and who gave him quite an amazing insight on England's Gentry.

"I have a question but before asking I want you to promise not to be angry with me."

He frowned before standing up and joining his wife on their bed.

"Why should I be angry?"

"The question will be self-explanatory, you'll see, just promise please…" answered Lizzie with a frown of her own.

"I promise" said Fitzwilliam while taking her hands in his.

Lizzie closed her eyes, took a deep breath and took her courage in both hands.

"Is your refusal to become King in relation with me or my family?"

Fitzwilliam was amazed and for very long seconds unable to even understand what Lizzie was asking. Finally the real signification of her question made full impact with what was left of his intelligence.

He felt anger boiling in his heart and he was about to speak when he remembered his promise.

A smile came on his lips.

Of course she would know that such a question would anger him. That he would…

But then why even ask? Why say such hurtful words. As if he…

"Of course not" said he with force. "Last year I was a moron of planetary scale when I refused to see all the strengths and qualities you were offering me. Those strengths and qualities are even more important than before now that I have accepted the Welsh Kingdom."

He forced her to spin and he looked at her.

"Open your eyes, my love" said he in a whisper. "I want you to see the truth of my words."

She did as asked.

"I hesitate to contemplate becoming King of England for the same reasons I hesitated for its Welsh counterpart and none of those are in relation with you, your parents or your sisters."

He made a face.

"Well, there is that brother of yours who definitively **_is_** a reason behind my hesitations. But it has nothing to do with you being my wife!"

He smiled at her.

"You being my wife was **_the_** reason I finally accepted the Welsh Coronation. I knew that I would have at my side a smart, sensible and understanding wife who would always support me and help me and put up with me even in my worse days of doubts and despair."

He took her in his arms and finally gave in.

"I'll do it! But only if there is no better candidate available." He shook his head. "We already had this conversation and I've already told you that I really never coveted power. And I don't covet it now any more than before. I'll do it but I consider myself to be forced by duty and I take no pleasure in the prospect."

She finally sighed and drove him away a little more. Her smile was back.

"Thank you for your answer, Fitzwilliam. But I needed to know." She took him by the shoulders and shook him lightly. "Because of all the men I've known you are the only one I see fit to become King!" She made a face half smile half sneer. "Geoffrey not included of course but then, in my opinion, even if I do believe he has the stature of being a Great King I wouldn't like him as anyone's ruler!" She closed her arms around him and soon he felt her tears. "I had that lingering doubt that somehow I was playing a central role in your reluctance!"

"Hush!" whispered he. "You must stop immediately letting me rub off on you! I need it to be the other way around. Your strength becoming my strength is what I need not my doubts becoming your doubts!"

* * *

Mary couldn't help but smile.

Duroc had been a perfect host. The food had been delicious, the wines tasteful and her partners as enjoyable as usual.

"Was the meal at your taste?"

She smiled at the general's question.

"It was perfect and I must admit that I never ate a more delicious one." She let her smile grow. "And never in better company."

Duroc bowed in her direction.

"I concur, never in better company."

Emilie who had been the perfect young Lady let her happiness lighten the room.

"You seem to be content with yourself, young Lady" teased Duroc.

"That I am, papa" agreed Emilie. "I prayed that you…"

She was interrupted by her father's choke.

Soon she was tapping him on the back.

"Be careful, papa… You could choke to death! What happened?"

Mary was hiding her smile behind her hand and Duroc could see at her eyes that she was having the time of her life.

Once out of danger he looked at his daughter.

"You prayed? Since when do you pray?"

"Since Mary convinced me" said Emilie.

"But weren't you of the opinion that God didn't exist?"

"I was wrong" said Emilie with all the seriousness a young girl could muster. "I still believe that religious structures are human constructs which use the name of God to ensure the wealth of their rulers but I'm no longer denying the existence of a Superior being who has created the world. Even monsieur d'Arcy has recognized that chance cannot explain the multiple beauties this world is providing."

Duroc shot a reproachful look at Mary who didn't deny her responsibility.

"My father and my brother were always at her side when Jane and I brought up the subject. I hope you don't suspect us to have taken advantage of your daughter. The discussions were open and Jane and I were very attentive to let Emilie develop her own arguments."

"And it really helps to be able to pray, papa" said Emilie with something like awe in the voice. "It brought me another perception of my place in the whole of Creation! Before I was…" she hesitated a second. "Emptier, could be a way to describe it but it is too material an explanation if I'm frank. More complete now is probably a better way to speak of it." She smiled at him and at Mary. "Even if the fact that you will be together is even more important to me, I'm feeling better since I found myself in acceptance with _His_ existence."

She came to her father and slowly put her arms around his neck.

"I'm very happy, papa" whispered she. "I can't thank you enough…"

"I did it for you, dear" said he in a whisper, "but that doesn't mean that I did it reluctantly. I'm very sure that Mary will be the best of mothers for you and the best of wives for me. She will help us to overcome the bad memories of your mother's demise while bringing back all the good memories being a family has once upon a time created."

He looked up and his eyes locked with Mary's.

"You've made my daughter a happy girl, Miss Bennet" said he with a smile.

"And you both have made me a happy woman,_ monsieur_ Duroc" answered she.

They remained silent for a long time and there was no doubt in their hearts that their happiness was shared.

* * *

"A penny for your thoughts?" asked Mrs. Bennet when they were, as was now a tradition, walking in the park after the meal.

He looked up and smiled at his wife.

"I'm wondering, as usual, at my luck and –you know that darker side of me- when the time of payback will come."

She pulled him against her.

"I have the same thoughts from time to time. I'm wondering about the price we'll have to pay for being so lucky."

He nodded and made a face.

"Well let's hope that we have already paid the price. These last twenty years haven't, if the truth is said, been so extraordinary for us." He snickered. "I can't say we were unhappy but one thing is sure it wasn't happiness!"

"I don't quite agree, dear," said she. "We had everything we also have now. We could have built our happiness but we clearly chose to build our frustrations instead."

He sighed.

"I was too taken by what I believed having lost to really see what did come my way." He embraced her. "We could have been so happy and we just… forgot to do what could have given us what we were looking for."

She forced him to stop brooding and to look at her.

"But we are happy, now, aren't we?"

His smiled was immediately back.

"Yes we are." His embrace tightened. "Indeed we are…"

* * *

"My God" said Lydia while shaking her head, "never would I have dreamt of seeing my parents embracing in public like that. This isn't the same Earth we lived in three months ago!"

Georgiana pulled her friend from the window.

"Don't spy on them if what they do seems unseemly."

"I don't spy, and of course it isn't unseemly. It's just so… unreal, you know. Three months ago their only way of discussing was sarcasm for my father and whines for my mother. It takes a little time to get accustomed to this new reality."

Georgiana giggled.

"New reality where a prince is about to arrive…"

Lydia snorted.

"Don't put too much importance in those visits. He's visiting us out of duty for his brother and his cousin –even if they aren't really cousins- and to spy on Geoffrey."

Georgiana shook her head.

"Why spy on us? We know nothing!"

"Indeed we know a lot of things, dear" insisted Lydia. "I asked Geoffrey this very morning and he gave me quite a list of 'secret' information I'm free to divulge to Wilhelm. He should be very satisfied with this afternoon's visit…"

Georgiana who was a very well educated young Lady didn't insist to get a preview but on the inside she was rather irritated that Lydia was beginning to do things without letting her come along.

"Come on, Georgie" frowned Lydia who had sensed Georgiana's mood. "You were still asleep this morning when d'Arcy went out. I could just catch him before he rode away. Had you been awake I would have taken you with me." She winked at her. "If you insist I can awake you when I stand up…"

Georgiana who liked it to lie-in made a face.

"No thank you! You could have made an exhaustive report while we brake fast."

Lydia snickered.

"I could have but where would be the award for standing up from rooster's crow if I had?"

"I believed you a friend" pouted Georgiana.

"I am! And that's why I've let you lie-in and will be able to give you a report while we are waiting on the Prince's arrival…"

* * *

"Why this frown" asked Jane while arranging the flowers her husband had sent her. "You seem upset."

Maureen made a face and forced a smile on her face.

"I'm not upset" answered she. "I'm…" She hesitated. "Disturbed is probably the right word. I just cannot agree with what we do."

"And what do we do?" insisted Jane who knew perfectly well what was gnawing at her… sister? She had seen the uneasiness in Maureen swelling.

"This sharing…" whispered Maureen. "It's not right!"

"You would have preferred to seduce him and betray me?"

"Of course not, I should have been steadfast enough to live my life without ever again thinking of him!"

That brought out a real roar of laughter on Jane's side.

"Being in love with Geoffrey and never again thinking of him? How do you believe you would have done such a feat?"

Maureen bit her lips.

"I should have tried…" whispered she. "I didn't even made an attempt to be steadfast. I just jumped at the occasion you offered…"

Jane sighed, put the flowers back on the table and went to take Maureen away from the wall where she was playing wallflower and pulled her to the sofa where she forced her to sit at her side.

They looked each other in the eyes for quite a few long seconds.

It was Jane who spoke first.

"You know why I asked Geoffrey, don't you?"

"You've heard what I said to him on what I believed my deathbed."

Jane shook her head.

"That was only a tiny part of it. The real important part is that you were in need and that I couldn't accept to let my jealousy and possessiveness become the reasons for the unhappiness of a person I love."

Maureen shot her an amazed glance.

"You love?"

"Indeed I love, dear" answered Jane. "I can't help it but love a lot of people, my dear. And you've shown that you are the most truthful and trustworthy person I ever encountered. Without you I'd be dead and Geoffrey would have unleashed his wrath on quite a few innocent people. So you are probably the person who most deserves my love. And what better proof of love could I give than sharing?"

"It isn't right…" muttered Maureen.

"Yes it is!" interrupted Jane. "I've hesitated and wondered if it was the path to follow and it was soon clear to me that there was no other path! Geoffrey is mine by law but he isn't mine to rule. He has shown that I was important to him and I have shown that he is important to me. But being important to someone else is not the same as being owned by him. I don't own Geoffrey and he is free –and I pray God that he never does it- to leave me the moment he stops loving me. But while we are together and bonded by a shared love I won't try and restrain him…" She sighed. "I wondered if I could live with myself while sending you away because you have the exact same feeling I have for Geoffrey. Soon I was sure that I couldn't! But if I hadn't sent you away, what life would have been yours if you'd be forced to witness our love while yours was smothered?" She shook her head. "No really there was no other choice which wouldn't have destroyed me. Hurting a loved one I can't! But sharing with a loved one that I always was capable of!"

Maureen shook once more her head.

"But you are his wife, you shouldn't…"

Jane hushed her with a finger on her lips.

"Being a wife gives a certain number of rights but it has never ensured a woman that her husband would stay faithful. And being a wife has never been a guarantee for a happy life. In my experience what has a chance to provide happiness in life is the ability to love without restrain." She took Maureen's face in her hands. "I'm his wife and I love him and what's even better: I'm loved by him! But that is not enough if around me loved ones are unhappy. And unhappy you would have been and the only one which could give you happiness was mine to share, so I asked him and let him decide." She smiled at the memory. "He wouldn't believe me at first, but soon he no longer had any doubt about my reasons. And, being not indifferent to your feelings, it wasn't very difficult to convince him."

Jane frowned at Maureen.

"So stop being so prudish and catholic and guilt-ridden and let yourself be welcome in my little world of shared and true love. I didn't lose anything in the bargain but I got back what I feared would never be back: see your hard eyes soften and sparkle anew." She forced her opposite to look up and Maureen was, as usual, overwhelmed by the frankness she discovered in those blue eyes. "Please, stop flogging yourself and just take my gift for what it is: a token of my love to a sister in feelings and soul!"


	56. Indian Bad News

**Chapter fifty-six: Indian bad news**

* * *

**Mysore and Kolkata India, Monday the 22****nd**** of October**

* * *

"No way!" shouted the Governor. "It can't be!" He looked at his aide-de-camp who had just brought him the news.

"It comes in direct way from the First Lord of the Admiralty" insisted Kendal. "All the seals are genuine and it is signed by Lord Spencer. We have no doubt that it has been dispatched to all British officers in the whole world. I fear it is the truth!"

Arthur Wellesley Governor of Mysore and Seringapatam could only shake his head before looking, once more, at the dispatch from the First Lord. Once more he looked at the date. August! England has been invaded in August! And he was just getting news that the French had landed seventy thousand men in Brighton!

He forced himself not to tear the dispatch in thousand shreds.

"What do we do?"

Kendal shrugged.

"It is only an informative dispatch. It gives no further instructions; I suppose it means that we go on as usual until we get new orders. No need to infer incoming orders. We'll have to wait to get further news from the situation with England's defenders."

The Governor snorted.

"There are no more English defenders" shouted he. "With seventy thousand men already landed there are no troops to hold the French. And with d'Arcy as their overall commander I'm quite sure England has been in French hands for weeks now!"

Kendal looked at his commander in chief. There was perhaps the chance to calm the lieutenant general down. "You know this d'Arcy?"

Arthur Wellesley nodded while looking once more at the text of the dispatch.

"Not personally but I've studied all his Egyptian and Syrian victories, Kendal. It was d'Arcy who destroyed Nelson's ships and who was responsible for the Admiral's death. I had to study this man's achievements, Kendal. I had that gut feeling that he was even more important than Napoleon. And what I know now is that if there's one enemy commander I don't want to fight against, then it's this one."

Kendal struggled to smother his smile.

Thanks God his question had brought his Governor out of his ugly mood. Now he only needed to get him to tell the rest of the story.

"Nobody's better than you, Boss…"

Wellesley snorted.

"Don't be an idiot, Kendal. Perhaps, one day, I'll be as good as Napoleon but I know that I'll never be d'Arcy's equal. That is the only man I know who builds his victories weeks in advance. Napoleon masters three very important war qualities: improvisation, adaptation and the art of choosing the best spot for a battle. D'Arcy has these same qualities but his real strengths are preparation and manipulation. He studies his enemies until he's able to think like them, to feel how they think. And then he feeds them with the information he knows will push them into making bad choices." He looked at his aide. "I'm sure he's studied me and that he knows all my mannerisms." Wellesley smiled at himself. "He'll have it easy… He will play my foul temper to get me to do what he wants." He sighed. "He's the only man I'm scared to encounter in battle because I know I'll be defeated because of my own mistakes and misjudgments!"

"You speak of him as if he was invincible…" grumbled Kendal. "Nobody's invincible!"

Wellesley nodded.

"You're right, Kendal. But his strength runs deeper than being invincible. He's able to push his opponent into defeating himself. It isn't him who wins it is his opponent who makes losing choices. And you can't win if you've maneuvered yourself into a position where defeat is the only outcome against an opponent who knows what to do! And d'Arcy is definitely a man who knows how to run a battle."

Kendal looked at the dispatch.

"So everything's lost?"

Wellesley shook his head.

"Not everything, Kendal, not everything! But, even if it seems a rather defeatist affirmation, I'm ready to bet anything you want that the British mainland is now French."

Kendal made a face.

"What do we do?"

"We stay here and we build the next British power base, that's what we do!"

"What if the King calls us back to reconquer the British Islands?"

This time it was Wellesley who made a face.

"Then we have a choice between betraying the King and betraying the Kingdom and we, the general officers, are doomed!"

Kendal nodded. He could very well see what would happen if the King called them back. Some would accept and others, like Wellesley, would refuse. And nothing would be settled but the end of what could have been an Empire.

"I really hope," said finally Kendal, "that you are wrong and that our troops in England there will prevail!"

Wellesley looked toward the heaven.

"You can lie to yourself and to the world, Kendal, but the Horse Guards and the militias are totally outclassed if –and I don't see why he would come without them- d'Arcy came with his best soldiers, the veterans he himself commanded in Egypt and Syria. He will crush them like the hobby soldiers they are, Kendal! England was lost the very minute the first French soldier put his foot on English soil! And even my troops here, and they are the best we are able to muster, wouldn't have stopped d'Arcy's armies." He threw the dispatch away. "I could have built a splendid tool here in India. An army with veteran soldiers and a thirst for victory. But to build that tool I needed more time!"

Kendal shook his head.

"My family lives in Bristol, Sir. If the King calls to go free my home country, I'll go and fight at his side! There's just no choice there. And your men will follow me and those others officers who has the desire to fight for their families. They won't stay here while their families suffer under a French occupation! No way!"

"And we will lose everything" said Wellesley in a deep voice. "As I said those men are not yet ready to fight against d'Arcy's elite. We will land and they will crush us and England's last hope will have been wasted for nothing!"

* * *

"Where was the Navy?" shouted Campbell. "How could the French cross the channel with seventy thousand men? To transport those huge mass of soldiers they needed hundreds of ships! How could they go through our ships of the wall?"

"Calm down, general" said the Governor. "It's only a two pages dispatch. We will probably get more information in the next few days."

"I have all the information I need" went on Campbell. "We have no longer a Home land, that's what this fucking dispatch says! We are on our own!"

"No, we are not" countered Wellesley, the Governor-General of India. "It would have been better if we were! We could have kept the secret long enough to see what can be done. But this bloody dispatch has been sent to all commanding officers of the armed forces! No chance that this new will remain a secret and as soon as the men know we will look at unrests all over the country. And I'm quite sure that our enemies will take every advantage we offer them. It could very well be that this news signifies the end of our attempt to pacify India…" He sighed.

"This is only the beginning of our problems, believe me, whatever has happened in England it will have consequences here and I'm quite sure the consequences won't be good at all."

* * *

"I've just heard the sentries speaking, it seems that the Home country of those English dogs has been invaded by our French allies" said Abdul Khaliq to his brother Maiz Uddin. "I'm sure our brother will soon know and send troops to get us out of this prison…"

Maiz Shrugged.

"I hope he won't. He has better things to do than to try and free us. He needs to strike at our enemies; we are of no importance to him. He has his own sons and we have been out of his influence for far too long. He won't like what the English have made of us. No, better he concentrates on real military objectives and keeps us here where we are of a little use."

Abdul frowned.

"But I'd like to be free and fight at his side…"

"We are too young and too inexperienced to be of any use for him. No, as I said, better to use his troops to fight the English. But we have another responsibility."

"Which is?"

"We must make sure that he gets the information as soon as possible. The English will be shattered by the news and it is important he strikes while they are unsure and despairing!"

"We could use one of the servants we bribed," proposed Abdul.

"We will have no choice and we will have to give him coins to be sure that the information gets to father as soon as possible."

"Yes" said Abdul. "But no gold! He will just disappear with the coins and we will never see him again. No, better to promise him gold if he brings back a letter from our brother. Better to pay him after the job's done."

"Indeed you are right! Let's do it…"


	57. Washington War Counsel

Since the last was a rather short one I post a second chapter today! Good reading...

* * *

**Chapter fifty-seven: Washington War Counsel**

* * *

**Washington, Monday the 22****nd**** of October**

* * *

Thomas Jefferson looked at the other members of the Cabinet who had answered to his invitation.

The vice President Burr was in New York and couldn't make it. James Madison, the secretary of State was, as usual, whispering to his secretary. Albert Gallatin, the secretary of treasury was looking at his President with that little smile which had the power to grate on anyone's nerves but the President. Dearborn the secretary of War had the frown he wore when he believed the situation was desperate –which was often enough- and he was slowly speaking with the secretary of the Navy with whom he just had a major fight about the next budget. Levi Lincoln was sitting at the side and, as was his habit, taking notes.

"Well gentlemen, please take your seat and let's begin. We have to discuss about the new events taking place in Europe and the influence they could have on us."

Everybody walked to the table and took his seat.

Jefferson looked at Gallatin and gave him the floor.

"I'd like Albert to give us a report on our financial situation. As you all know there is a strong appeal by most senators to pay off totally the debt. I agree with the philosophical aspect of their demand but we have a country to manage and we have the future of the United States to guarantee." He made a little gesture and Gallatin stood up.

"Gentlemen," said he with his slight French accent, "to cut a long race short, let it be known that we can't pay off the debt and buy the southern part of Louisiana –with New Orleans- at the same time. We can do one or we can do the other, not both!"

"What about their conditions," asked Madison. "We still haven't ended the fight around slavery. Without a clear statement on that question I doubt d'Arcy will accept to make the bargain. Livingston had been adamant that it was not a secondary aspect of d'Arcy's demands. He will probably shut the deal if we are unable to outlaw slavery."

Smith shrugged.

"If that's the case we'll have to go after the debt, that's all!

"We need New Orleans" insisted Gallatin. "Without it d'Arcy has the power to smother half our trade income. And the trade on the Mississippi will be even more important when the French have begun to seriously settle the West bank. I'm not in the Senators' shoes but even they should understand that with the Louisiana Purchase we would double our State's income within _two_ years. And this means that two years after buying the south of Louisiana we would have the income to pay the debt off. And we would be richer and have a hinterland where our nationals could settle, for once, quite legally!"

Madison made a gesture and Jefferson gave him the floor.

"You all know that I own slaves and that my family's wealth is dependent on the persistence of that institution. I do recognize all the evils this tradition has brought upon us and especially my family but I'm even more concerned with what would happen to our country after the emancipation. Will the Negroes be able to live in peace with us who enslaved and tortured them? I'm scared to look at what we could unleash on our white brothers if we go on with this emancipation matter!"

Jefferson nodded.

"You are not the only one here who owns slaves, James, and I have the same scruples with emancipation but we need to prepare the future and if Livingston's report on d'Arcy's words are genuine we have against us a man who not only believes slavery is evil but that those who own slaves are criminals in their own right." He looked at Gallatin. "Will Napoleon back him?"

Gallatin could only nod his assent.

"No doubt there! Napoleon seemed, for a few months, to be open to the slave lobby coming out of Haiti but that's no longer the case. Since Napoleon gave d'Arcy _carte blanche _upon all affairs abroad that lobby has just ceased to exist! Most of them are in hiding because d'Arcy has unleashed his accountants on their plantations and most of them having cheated on taxes he'll have them hanged in no time!" He shared a worried look with Jefferson. "Slavery is a matter of great importance for d'Arcy. It's not only a philosophical stance. He's against it with all his might and all his considerable means!"

"There are rumors in Paris" said the General Attorney, "that he was himself a slave in China. That could explain why he is so sanguine about this whole business."

Dearborn couldn't help but sigh.

"By God we've got ourselves the Spartacus of the modern times! Let's speak of bad luck!"

"No bad luck there" countered Gallantin. "Slavery is an institution of the past and holding slaves is economically counterproductive, it is only normal that a country whose population has risen up to fight for freedom and equality would breed a new Spartacus!" He blinked heavily. "And that Spartacus is the commander in chief of the legions. Legions which are coming right here…"

"No they are not" interrupted Madison. "They landed in Ireland the 17th of September. As we speak Ireland is probably a free country no longer under English rule!"

"So he won't come?" asked Dearborn who felt a smile trying to invade his lips.

"Not this year" admitted Madison with a smile of his own.

"Which means," said Jefferson, "that we have till next year to worry about having tens of thousands French soldiers in our backyard."

Smith the secretary of Navy made a face between a smile and a frown.

"Which means that, once more, d'Arcy has outwitted or defeated the British Navy. I don't know if you have the same odd feeling than me but I'm more and more worried about that new French Fleet. We already knew that they had the best armies and the best officers on land. If they happen to get a Navy which is on the same level we will have great problems to reach our goal to build the second Navy in the world."

Jefferson seemed not convinced.

"I do concur but it is more because of lack of funds than anything than the French could do!"

Smith shook his head.

"No, no, it's not only a question of money. A year ago the British Navy was the best in the world and the French had no chance to ever beat them even with their better ships. And now, a year later they have landed seventy thousand men on the English South Coast! What happened to the Fleet that was patrolling the channel? In my opinion the French didn't have the ships to protect all their troop transports. Had they landed thirty thousand soldiers I wouldn't be worried because I could believe that they have paid the price. As it looks like either the French had one hundred thousand men to invade England or not one English ship was able to get near the troop transports carrying the French armies." He looked at the secretary of War. "How many French troops had been stationed in France a year ago?"

"My estimation was fifty thousand," said Dearborn. "I admit that I was wrong but I'm quite sure that my men hadn't missed one hundred thousand men stationed in France…"

"So" continued Smith, "the only way to understand how the whole of the French Army was able to land in England is because the English ships in the Channel were destroyed before they could shoot a single cannon ball!"

"That's ridiculous" shouted Madison. "The Royal Navy has the best crews in the world. Nobody could destroy them before they were able to shoot a single cannon ball."

Smith shrugged. "Of course they were able to shoot a few shots but they clearly weren't able to get near enough to the troop transports to stop them! And that means that the French have either sprouted thousands of elite sailors or that they have built a new category of ships which are clearly better than what the Royal Navy had in store."

"Here we are back to your super weapons" shouted Dearborn. "There are no such things as super weapons!"

"Yes there are and the French have they!" bellowed Smith. "And soon you'll see them and if we don't put our money in ways to build them we'll be as defenseless as the Brits. We have enough good engineers to be at the top of the line but we must give them the means to work. We have already let Fulton go to France and I'm quite sure that what the French have used to destroy the English Channel Fleet is in straight line with his research…"

Dearborn couldn't help but roar.

"Submarines, you still believe in them. Wake up, there is no such thing as a submarine!"

"Gentlemen" interrupted Jefferson. "We are not here to shout at each other but to prepare the future of our Country in a world where the most powerful Nation is soon to be at our border!"

He shot an angry glance at Dearborn.

"For my part Smith's demonstration has convinced me. Do you have another explanation to propose that clarifies how d'Arcy could land his whole army at Brighton?"

Dearborn rattled horns with the President for a full minute before sighing.

"No" said he finally. "But…"

"We don't need your opinion on that matter," cut the President. "You've already let it known very loudly! And it has only shown your prejudices against technological progress, nothing else. So please stop believing that you'll be able to convince us just by shouting again and again the same litany!"

Madison stood up.

"Let's go back to the reason we are here! What do we do to be prepared to our encounter with the French Forces?"

There was a long silence and finally it was the Attorney General who stood up.

"There is a question I must ask the president to demand to all the members of this cabinet." He looked at Jefferson who nodded once. "Do we want to risk a war against France?"

"Why should we?" asked Dearborn once more not convinced that a war against France was even a possibility to consider.

"Because" said Madison "they will soon come to free their Canadian Brethren and they will come with thousands of soldiers. And very soon afterwards we will be surrounded by French territory which will restrict every future move we will want to do. There is no doubt in my mind that sooner or later, if we are so constrained, we will have to spring that bolt and that means war with France!"

"D'Arcy proposed to sell us the Southern part of Louisiana" reminded Dearborn. "We could buy…"

"Only if we abolish slavery" said Jefferson. "And I'm not sure if a war with France wouldn't be a safer bargain than a mass emancipation. If we lose against France we're still within civilized boundaries. With thousands of Negroes rampaging the countryside it could be a massive manslaughter and the end of white power in America. Look at what happened in Haiti! Thousands of mulattos have been massacred by the Negroes' armies. They stopped at nothing, not at women and not at babes. Negroes on the loose are dangerous beasts!"

Lincoln asked once more the permission to speak.

Jefferson nodded.

"If we chose to emancipate the Negroes, we must prepare said emancipation with great care. We must look at the slave communities and find their leaders. We will find peaceful and tame ones and we will find aggressive and hateful ones. The first we must nurture and the seconds we must…" he hesitated, "…contain!"

Madison nodded and asked for the floor.

"We could propose to the French to take in those Negroes unable to accept to live in peace with us! They would probably accept them. They are after all able bodied workers already accustomed to the American climate. I'm quite sure that d'Arcy would accept to propose it even before the President edicts the abolition act…"

Madison couldn't help but sigh.

"So this is it? We go for the emancipation and the Louisiana Purchase?"

Jefferson nodded once more.

"You're right, let's do it the right way." He looked at his cabinet members. "Who is against?"

Nobody said a word.

"Who abstains?" asked he while looking at Madison who had the greatest qualms about the emancipation.

Once more there was a long silence and Madison finally looked up.

"I won't abstain" said he lastly. "The Nation needs unanimity and unanimity it will get!"

Jefferson smiled at him and nodded.

"Unanimity then it is!"


	58. Luncheon

**Chapter fifty-eight: Paris Luncheon**

* * *

**Paris, Monday the 22****nd**** of October**

* * *

"Everybody is so sure that I'm the next King of England" said Fitzwilliam Darcy with a sigh. "Why am I the only one who has doubts?"

"Because you're the only one who's able to see the problems coming your way?" said Alexander while indulging himself with another glass of Port wine.

He smiled at Darcy.

"But if you don't want the Crown, I'll take it immediately! Compared to my Russian Crown it would be so much more delightful!"

Darcy frowned not knowing if the Czar was joking or not.

"I'm serious, Fitzwilliam. You can't imagine the cesspool I've got for a Kingdom. Those bastards killed my father and now they are spreading rumors that I did it to make me look as a patricide. Your aristocracy is civilized and well behaved. Mine is reactionary and raucous."

"Not to mention dangerous" added Wilhelm who was the other outsider at Darcy's luncheon.

As it was tradition in English households sexes have separated and the men were now drinking, smoking and playing billiard in d'Arcy's guest study.

Darcy who was no real amateur of tobacco was playing billiard with the Czar and Wilhelm while d'Arcy and his father in law were discussing over a very precise map of America. Abercromby was lingering between them hoping to get the gist of both conversations.

"The day they want me dead they'll do everything in their power to get rid of me…" continued the Czar. "I'm sure your nobles are much more restrained."

Darcy chose to not comment. He wasn't sure at all how the British aristocracy would welcome the next King. And if said next King was a certain Fitzwilliam Darcy he was quite sure it wouldn't go any better.

"I'll do what's necessary to ensure the fasted recovery for the British Islands," said he. "We are happy this invasion didn't cost us half our infrastructure. We have the means to make a head start and I'll be there to push in the right direction. And I'll do it in any role the British people choses to give me!"

"That's the spirit" applauded Alexander. "Don't forget you have a whole country to back you! You are not alone even if right now it seems so to you!"

That brought a smile on Darcy's face.

"I know quite well that I'm not alone. If nobody else remains there will always be Elizabeth."

* * *

"They will accept" said d'Arcy. "They have no choice if they want to get their greedy fingers on New Orleans and Southern Louisiana."

"But won't that sale limit France's possibilities?"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"Not really" smiled d'Arcy. "It is even more in France's favor than a status quo where the US refuses to buy. I need them to have an output for their adventurers and gold diggers. If we limit them they'll come nevertheless and we will have to deal with illegal immigrants. And we won't have enough police forces to rule the whole country. I'll send ten thousand of my best cavalry abroad to pacify the country but what I really want is to get the natives to lend me a hand to do it!"

He pointed at a place on the map where two big rivers were joining.

"That's where we will build Louisiana's Capital and that's also where we will build a bridge over the Mississippi."

Edward Bennet pointed toward a point where a city was already built.

"That's Saint Louis, isn't it? Why not use that already existent city as your Capital?"

"Politics," smiled d'Arcy. "The treaty was rather vague about the exact territories the English Crown gives back to France. What I consider is that everything west of the Ohio River belongs to our new French territories. So for me and France it is the Ohio river which is the Northern East Border of Louisiana. And by building a city just where the Mississippi and the Ohio River converge I give the United States a clear message about what I consider ours."

"Is your map accurate?" asked Edward Bennet.

"The best you can find anywhere on the market. With a lot of things –settlements for instance- I could add because of the men I send to chart these countries."

"So" said Mr. Bennet. "There are US settlements on territories you consider yours."

"Yes I know and I'll probably accept in the future to consider that the border between the United States and France runs along the rivers going from Fort Pontchartrain to Fort Oulabaton in the South West. But that will be only after long and difficult negotiations. We wouldn't want to give away too much of French territory to our American allies without a proper compensation, would we?"

Edward Bennet could only shake his head.

"How many moves do you play in advance, son?"

"When everything's at his best at least five, father" answered d'Arcy very seriously. "But only the moves one and two are certain. From move three on it happens that I have to adapt my strategy to some people's lack of logic!" He cast an amazed glance at his father in law. "You wouldn't imagine how often rulers do decide things against all logic. Based on their whim and, more often than not, on pure chance. It's rather astounding, really. It makes making decisions so much harder for me!"

"Welcome to the Club of normal decision makers, son. Most people don't even have one move in advance."

D'Arcy smiled and shook his head.

"That's not true. Most decision makers I know have one or two moves prepared in advance. Some like Napoleon have three."

Edward Bennet took another sip of his beer, an Irish brand d'Arcy had imported only for him, and looked at his son in law.

"Give me an example, son. Let me see how you prepare your moves."

"No" answered d'Arcy with a smile. "But I'll give you the next three steps of our honored guest the Czar of Russia."

The Czar stopped looking at the game and lifted an eyebrow?

"Three? That's way too much for a peasant like me…"

D'Arcy winked at his father.

"Don't believe his little scheme. He loves to pass for the backward King of a backward country. It's how he brings you to underestimate him. His father took great care to show himself as the most civilized and the most scholarly man of Russia. And soon all the Boyars hated him because they believed him to be arrogant."

"Which he was!" interrupted the Czar. "Not as arrogant as you d'Arcy, but with a few more years training he would have been right behind you!"

"So" went on d'Arcy after acknowledging the compliment with a bow, "his son decided to go the other way. He drinks, he farts, he burps as often as possible to give the image of the most unlearned and crude King of the creation. But behind that merry go round behavior you have a scheming mind that looks through people in seconds."

The Czar roared a tremendous laughter.

"You're too much, d'Arcy! Really you are!"

"Thanks you your Majesty but let's go to your next three moves in foreign affairs…"

This time the Czar's smile disappeared and a serious mien came upon his face.

"First you must know, father, that even if everybody is convinced that the Czar wants to gobble the Turks –and he does want it, but doing it next year will probably hinder his other, more westerly, ambitions– he didn't come only to get an alliance with Napoleon."

The Czar's eyes lost their last sparkle of pleasure.

"No, dear father, he is here to scout out the situation in Western Europe." D'Arcy pointed at the young prince who was still playing with Darcy in appearance oblivious to d'Arcy's tale. "Because he freeing the Hagia Sophia was never very high on his personal wish list! He'll do it to secure the support of the orthodox church but it isn't what he really wishes for. In fact, he's here because he would very much like that his cousin the King of Prussia could be pushed into attacking France."

This time the Czar's frown became unfriendly.

"You must know, papa, that his little role playing is tiring him. He would love to move his Capital city more toward the West. He would have done it with Warsaw but the Poles hate his guts with such virulence that he wouldn't be safe there. So he's looking a little more to the West… Guess where?"

The Czar stood up and joined d'Arcy and Edward Bennet.

"Why are you doing this, d'Arcy?" hissed he when he was standing in front of d'Arcy.

"To show you my arrogance, what else?" answered d'Arcy. "I love it to put my foes' noses in their flimsiness. To shatter their little certainties which push them into doing foolish things just because they unwisely believe that nobody is able to outsmart them."

"You're playing a dangerous game, d'Arcy…" snarled the Czar.

"I know, your Majesty, and I choose to play it with the highest stakes possible. I love to play my game with the most powerful players available on the game board. This is what makes it so exciting! Manipulating innocents and simple-minded is within reach of the first best idiot." His smile became sarcastic. "It brings so much more satisfaction to outsmart smart people. And from time to time it is even highly appreciated to have been outsmarted by a better player… When winning is too easy it is no longer a goal to pursue!"

"As I said you are an arrogant bastard!" grumbled the Czar.

D'Arcy shook his head.

"As said, for my arrogance I plead guilty! For the bastard part, though, Your Majesty, I protest! I'm my father's son and hopefully you'll never have to witness that side of my upbringing."

Two steps later d'Arcy's is at the Czar side.

"And please be very aware" whispered he to the Czar's ear, "that if France was pushed into making war to Prussia we would push our advantage to the bitter end and not only invade the country but integrate it in what will soon be the French Empire. You wouldn't be able to salvage anything…" A little smile crawled on d'Arcy's face. "And don't forget that Poland's nobles have been pestering France and Napoleon for years now to get us to help them get rid of their Russian Masters. It is only because I have convinced him that it would be a losing proposition to prefer a bunch of romantic has-beens to a perfectly ruthless and organized Kingdom that he renounced financing a Polish Insurrection –_his incredible miserliness not taken into account_– . As I see it I prefer the Russians and their Czar between us and any Eastern Horde." He shook his head. "But remember: I'm no longer Napoleon's councilor for European affairs. Others in France's administration are perhaps better suited to listen to your Prussian ambitions. I'm perhaps as arrogant as it comes but I'm one of the rare French who believes that a strong and callous Russia is the best neighbor we can get at our eastern border. It is perhaps a good thing to remember…"

* * *

As usual Elizabeth and Jane were side by side.

But soon the Czarina was joining them.

She looked at Jane and smiled.

"Could I impose myself and ask you a question, _madame_?"

Jane nodded and smiled back.

"Please do! I have nothing to hide…"

Elizabeth Alexeievna sat in front of them and her hands soon were nervously moving in her lap.

"There are rumors running that you are a midwife…" she hesitated and wringed her fingers even more.

"It is not common knowledge" said Jane "but I won't deny that I have effectively followed a midwife formation and that I, a few years ago, helped a few mothers in the delicate task of bringing their kids into the world." Her smile grew and she beamed at the Czarina. "And, apart from Geoffrey's courting, these are my most precious memories. If you haven't seen a little one coming into life, you've not witnessed the marvel of humanity." Her hand went to her womb and her smile changed to be even more ecstatic. "And soon I'll have the privilege to give birth like every mother in the world." She looked the Czarina in the eyes. "For me, giving birth is the most ultimate feminine action a woman can do. And in front of birth we, women, are all equal." She made a face. "Or we should be and we aren't just because some of us don't have the means to secure the presence of a doctor. Doctors who try more and more to take the place of midwives. But we don't need doctors, pregnancy is not an illness! We need midwives who know their job and who are able to follow the mother her whole pregnancy. To feel how the mother and the child are when the time of birth arrives you must know her intimately. You…"

She stopped and a made an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry, it's always the same when I speak about what would, in another life, have been my vocation; I become engrossed in the matter! I suppose you weren't asking my opinion about the place of midwifery in our society?"

The Czarina nodded and shook her head at the same time.

"Yes and no…" said she. "I'm here because I wonder how…" She stopped and made a gesture as if she was about to stand up.

Jane's hand was immediately on Elizabeth Alexeievna's arm.

"Don't be shy, my dear Louise, I'm a good listener and, from time to time, I'm even of good counsel." She forced her guest to look into her eyes while speaking very slowly. "You know being married with a man whose greatest pleasure is to know everything about everybody has brought a lot of knowledge in his wake. I do know a few things about you, dear and I'm quite certain that since you're so lonely at the Russian court it would perhaps be a good thing to tell us about all those things that are eating you from the inside." She let her most brilliant smile light the room. "We don't know each other for very long but I can assure you that whatever you would be willing to share won't ever be repeated. I have a very curious and interested husband but it is always him who provides the stories about the others. I speak only of what I feel free to share. If your reluctance is based on him being my husband please think twice about leaving."

Elizabeth Alexeievna smiled back and sat back with a sigh.

"Would it help you if I give you what I guess would have been your question?"

Elizabeth Alexeievna frowned and shook her head not finding the strength to speak.

"Let's go, then…" whispered Jane while taking the Czarina's hands in her own.

"What you are wondering about is, in my opinion, the link you feel between me and Geoffrey while you and your husband are more and more drifting away." Jane felt that she was right. "Don't forget that Geoffrey and I are married for only a few months and that we were both adults when we found each other. You married at fourteen and fifteen… It's quite normal that after six years you are no longer in love like in the first days…"

Elizabeth Alexeievna shook her head.

"We were not in love when we married, _madame_ d'Arcy…"

"Jane, please…"

"Jane," smiled the Czarina. "We were too young. I can't deny that the first months were more than exciting but Alexander soon began to look at other women and being Tsarevich he had no problems to find as many mistresses as he wanted."

"And he ceased to see you?" asked Lizzie who wasn't as well informed as her sister.

"Not the first years because he wanted me to beget his heir but since nothing came our way he just ceased to come…" She looked at her feet and her eyes began to shine with unshed tears. "It hurt and it hurts each time I think of the mess we made of our life. We are Monarchy but we are as unhappy as it comes!"

Jane shot a glance at her sister and urged her to take the floor.

"Marriages not born by love can still blossom into happiness and love, dear" soon said Lizzie. "You're both still young and you shouldn't despair about your future. Love is his own fuel to happiness."

Elizabeth Alexeievna nodded but her smile was small and looked not like happiness. "We live in the same places but we are no longer together. We look for happiness in directions where more often than not our spouse is not. And God doesn't like what we do and has punished us in the most effective manner." She shook her head and tears soon rolled down her cheeks. "The truth be said, there's no hope for people like us…"

On a signal from Jane both sisters placed themselves on either side of the Czarina and pushed her discreetly out of the music room where the rest of the ladies where discussing and listening to Mary. Soon they were in a dark corner where Jane could embrace her unhappy guest without embarrassing her.

* * *

Mary and Mrs. Bennet had, of course seen everything. Even Emilie had frowned when the sisters had accompanied the Czarina out of the room but a signal from Mary had stopped her incoming question and had brought her at her side at the pianoforte.

"What happened?" whispered Emilie while sliding into Mary's lap.

"I believe the Czarina was in need of a shoulder where she could cry" whispered back Mary. "Sometimes even ground-ups need to find somebody with whom they can share unhappiness. And Jane is a very good receiver when it comes to lift one's heart and forget sadness…"

Emilie looked back at Mary.

"You were sad?"

"Of course, dear, I was sad. Not often but it happened. You know I wasn't the most liked of the Bennet sisters. Most people find me dull and boring and from time to time even loving sisters say things that hurt. And when it happened, even my thick hide wasn't enough to take everything with ease. I wanted to be loved and I feared that I would never find anyone who would feel love for me…"

"I love you, Mary…" whispered Emilie.

"I know, dear, I know. And I love you, too! You're the best thing that happened to me since I am able to think for myself."

She felt Emilie's pride and happiness and she placed a discreet kiss on Emilie's head.

* * *

Mrs. Bennet couldn't help but feel happy while looking at the current Miss Bennet. Indeed she was happy and proud. She was proud that her daughters were doing so well. And she was even prouder to see that they had been able to overcome the handicap of their mother.

_Well I had a few excuses and I was so sure that only Jane would ever find a good party. And now it seems that all of my daughters are going to be happily and lavishly married. How silly of me to doubt that God would be with us_!

She turned around and looked at Lydia who was discussing with Georgiana. Not more silly giggles or rash comments there! She pricked up her ears to listen to what her youngest daughter was speaking about.

* * *

"…Not serious, Georgie. There is no better candidate than your brother! I've looked up every member of the British Aristocracy while looking for a husband. And believe me I was very thorough in my studies. I could give you the ten names of those who would probably be good kings. None of those ten people has your brother's qualities and only two or four three have your brother's experience and knowledge." She shook her head. "No, really, you have no other choice but to support your brother. You owe it to England and to the future of our children. Georgie, England's just got a second chance and that chance would be wasted with anybody else than Fitzwilliam!"


	59. Family Trial

**Chapter fifty-nine: London Family Trial**

* * *

**London, Tuesday the 23****rd**** of October**

* * *

"What is that pauper doing in our parlor, Charles?" asked Caroline when she arrived in the parlor after having been informed that her brother was back from Wales.

"She's…" tried to answer Charles before being cut off by Ma's shout.

"Your grandmother!" said Ma in what could only be described as an onslaught. "And you'd better show some respect, girl, or I'll whack you into obedience!"

Caroline was quite amazed by the sudden attack but she clearly hadn't understood the incoming message because she frowned at the little woman and her distaste was very visible.

It didn't last because Ma slapped her with all the strength of a matron accustomed to get what she wanted.

Caroline found herself crushed against the parlor's wall with two very angry green eyes looking at her with what could only be described as fury.

"I don't know how you treated your mother, but let's be very clear, here, if you dare even once more to look at me with such a disgusted expression I'll show you what a Biorna grandmother does to an unruly and ill-mannered youth…"

"Charles…" squealed Caroline. "She hit me!"

Charles who had difficulties to smother a satisfied smile was soon in front of his sister trying to protect her from their grandmother's wrath.

"Ma, please, I'm sure she didn't intend to be disrespectful…"

"What she intended is of no importance" countered Ma still not placated. "It's what she was doing that is important!" She turned toward her grandson. "I saw disgust in her eyes while she looked at me. What sort of crappy education do they use here that gives a young girl the right to feel herself authorized to _show_ disgust to any of her elders?" She went back to Caroline and pointed a vengeful finger toward her. "Who do you believe you are, girl, to look down on a woman who has thrice your age? What are your achievements that give you the right to treat other people like they are some manure? It's high time somebody takes your education in her hands to teach you the proper ways of a Biorna girl!"

She looked at the other people who had followed Caroline in the parlor. The Hursts were as shaken with what had just happened and were rather coved.

Ma pointed a finger toward Louisa.

"You are the eldest" shouted she. "It was your duty to give your younger siblings the right education! What have you to say in your defense?"

"Ah… ah… ah…" stammered Louisa.

"My god" cried Ma while looking toward heavens. "One of my granddaughters is a shrew and the other a simpleton!" She turned, once more, toward Charles. "Show me my room so that I'm able to wash and change." She shot an ugly look at Caroline. "I'll be back in an hour and if when I come back I still see that expression on your face I'll show you the whole range of applied Biorna education! And believe me I'll be able to erase it!"

* * *

"Who is this shrew?" asked Louisa as soon as Ma and Charles exited the room.

Kitty made great efforts not to smile. Her sisters would love what had just happened but for now she had to play her role as Charles' sister's ally.

"She's Ma Biorna. Biorna is the birth name of your father. And Ma is your father's mother. She wanted to visit her granddaughters living in London." She hesitated and made a decision. "She's the Biorna Clan Leader and as she has, repeatedly, said she's no kind woman! I don't want to interfere in your family business but I would, if I were you, take her threats seriously!"

"She hit me…" cried Caroline. "She hit me!"

_And you had it coming for quite a long time_, thought Kitty.

"And she'll do it again if you don't stop sniveling like a sissy. Ma, like the whole Biorna Clan, despises weaklings; she won't take it with pleasure to see you seeping like a babe."

"I want her out of my house!" shouted Caroline at the brink of a hysterical breakdown. "I want her out of here!"

_Good luck with that_, thought Kitty while smothering another smile. _I believe Charles could do it but as I see the situation he will throw you out before going against Ma_…

Louisa was at her sister's side and made great efforts to calm down Caroline.

With no luck at all since a few minutes later Caroline was drowning in a fit of hysterics.

Soon Charles was back and shot an amazed glance at Kitty.

Kitty was just able to shrug before Louisa was confronting Charles.

"Who's this hag, why have you brought her here, what are you going to do to get rid of her? How could she…"

And to everybody's surprise –and Kitty's great satisfaction- everything stopped with Charles outcry.

"Shut up, now!" bellowed her fiancé.

Even Caroline stopped howling.

All eyes were pointed toward Charles who looked like never before like a man completely in agreement with himself and the world.

"She's my grandmother and this is my house! I invited her to stay with me and she's staying even if you don't like her. If you are unable to consider living with her under the same roof I do remind you that we have an Estate in the North where you are always welcome." He shot an angry look at his sisters. "I can ask the servants to prepare your luggage within the next five minutes if that's what you chose! I won't detain you a minute more than necessary!"

There was a stunned silence that threatened to smother everyone when Kitty decided that it was time to step in.

"Let's not do things we would regret very soon, Charles," said she. "Everybody was surprised, I'm sure that if you give everybody the necessary explanations everything will be right without another breach within the family."

She joined Louisa and pulled her forcibly at Caroline's side on the sofa.

Mr. Hurst took the hint and retreated toward the armchair near the fire (and the wine table).

Kitty went to her fiancé's side and conspicuously put her arm within Charles'. He had not yet announced their new relationship but she felt that it was necessary to let it be known without a doundt.

Charles calmed down and took a long breath before smiling at Kitty and looking at the rest of his family.

"Well, let me repeat what I already said. The woman you just insulted is our grandmother and she is going to stay with us as long as she wills it. I won't impose her on you and I'm ready to accept your immediate departure if you so whished."

Caroline finally came out of her stunned silence.

"But Charles she hit me…"

"That's a grandmother's privilege, dear! She comes from a culture where if young ones are disrespectful with their elders they take the necessary steps!"

"I wasn't disrespectful" pleaded Caroline.

"Yes you were, as usual" cut Charles. "You are disrespectful with everyone whom you consider your inferior and with the others you are a hypocrite, that's the only difference I see when you deal with people. I let it pass; I suppose Ma won't let it pass like I did."

"She has no right to hit me, Charles! She's not my grandmother!"

"You can refuse all you want to accept the reality it won't change anything. She's our grandmother and that's it! I won't force you to acknowledge her but I can't guarantee how she will react when she hears that you refuse to recognize the family link." He made a face. "For what I know she could take it rather badly." He glanced at Kitty. "What do you believe will happen?"

Kitty bit her lips.

"We are in London, here, I doubt that she will react as in Ireland, dear," said she while smothering a smile. "And we are lucky, she didn't pack any of her weapons, it won't be too bloody, she's a frail old woman after all…"

Caroline was up and shaking.

"What do you mean: bloody?"

"Well, she's the head of her Clan," explained Charles. "And as such she has the status of a member of the original Norman Gentry. And they consider that they still have the rights of justice against the members of their Clan. And as family we are members of the c…"

"Norman Gentry?" whispered Caroline whose mind had blocked on those two words. "As in Wilhelm the Conqueror Norman Gentry?"

* * *

Ma came after an hour and she looked no longer like a tired old hag.

She looked like a fearsome old matron who was pissed with everything.

Everybody even Caroline stood when she entered the parlor and sat in the armchair Charles had prepared for her.

Her eyes sought everyone in the room and soon she stopped at Hurst.

"You're the parasite if I guess correctly, aren't you?"

Hurst couldn't help but look at Ma with eyes like saucers and clearly unable to say a word.

"We don't do parasites in the family" continued Ma. "You're my grandson in law and as such I demand that you provide for the Clan. The times where you walked from one drunken stupor to the other are behind you." She looked at Charles. "This Company of yours has probably enough room to host a worker more, hasn't it?"

Charles couldn't help but shoot a scarred look toward his brother in law.

"Come on Charles, there is surely a job even a big fat lazy sloth like him can do without pushing the whole thing into bankruptcy!" She looked at Hurst. "I suppose that before disappearing into the bottle you went to some high standard school, am I right…"

Hurst looked around him as if help could sprout out of thin air.

"I was in Eaton and then in Cambridge…" he stammered finally.

"What did you study in Cambridge?" insisted Ma.

"History…" answered Hurst.

Ma looked at Charles.

"Some place in your Company where a historian could be of use? And if there isn't you can always send him to dig sewers with the work gangs. A little physical work will do miracles to his health and…" she shot a glance at Louisa, "…to my granddaughter's happiness!"

Charles decided that Hurst's trial has been long enough and mediated.

"We are going to open a management school" said he. "We will need historians to teach to the students the basics." He shot a discreet smile at Hurst. "You're welcome to work with us."

"That being solved" said Ma, "let's speak of you, Louisa."

Louisa failed to swoon but she was very near to collapse.

"Come on, girl" shouted Ma. "You are a grown woman and you look like having, once upon a time, had enough backbone to get yourself a husband…" she shot an ugly look at Hurst, "…even if I would never have accepted such a sloth in the Clan! So tell me why is it so that you've quitted your responsibilities as the eldest female present?"

"There is no such thing, here…"

"Yes there is" interrupted Ma. "In my family the eldest female leads and here in London that's you!" She pointed a threatening finger toward Caroline. "Why did you abandon the authority to your younger ill-mannered sister?"

"I'm not…" tried Caroline but a dark look from her grandmother brought her enough wisdom to stop talking.

"We'll soon deal with you Caroline Bingley and believe me you'll regret every mistake you've made since your birthday!"

Ma looked back at Louisa.

"Well, granddaughter, I asked a question! Why?"

"She's so much smarter than I," stammered Louisa.

"She's not smart; she's an arrogant peacock full of its own importance. And what's even more unbearable my granddaughter is the most ill-mannered girl who ever crossed my path."

A warning look was enough to stop Caroline's next attempt to speak.

"As I see it, you abdicated because of a lack of will, granddaughter! You knew that you'd have to fight your sister and since she's so much more combative than you, you chickened out of the confrontation. That-has-to-stop; like your husband it is time that you stop hiding behind your laziness to do what the Clan awaits!" She looked at Louisa and waited.

After a long pregnant silence Louisa finally spoke.

"Yes m'mam…"

That produced the first smile on Ma's face.

Ma who changed target and finally looked at Caroline. And the smile that was adorning her lips was in no sense friendly.

"Well, granddaughter, I'm here and for the last half hour I didn't hear what I was waiting for. How long more will I have to wait?" Her eyes became very small slits and all trace of conviviality disappeared from Ma's face while she stopped speaking.

Kitty tried to discreetly convey a message to Caroline.

"Catherine" shouted Ma. "Stop immediately! She doesn't need your help to fathom what I want. It's her pride that keeps her silent. And so it will be her pride that keeps her from London for the next few years…"

That shook Caroline out of her sullen silence.

"I'm sorry grandmother" said Caroline finally.

"Not more than I" answered Ma. "The rest of his conversation we will continue in private!" She shot a glance toward the door.

"Everybody out, I'll call when you are needed."

Five seconds later they were alone.

Within seconds the walls were trembling and this Tuesday afternoon Ma Biorna became the most popular woman ever with the servants of Bingley House.


	60. Decisions

Chapter sixty: Paris Decisions

* * *

Paris, Tuesday the 23rd of October

* * *

"We must decide what to do now" said Abercronby. He looked at Darcy. "Do we all agree that the Kingdom of Wales has no longer the same importance?"

Fox made a face.

"I don't agree, Sir! I do believe that Wales is and will be for the next eighteen months the place where the future of the British Empire will be written. We must go on and build our institutions as if the French would stay."

"Why?" asked Abercronby. "We all know that the Kingdom of Wales will become a part of the United Kingdom."

"For now we know nothing" countered Fox. "The only thing we are sure about is that we will be rid of the French in a year and a half. What will be England's new regime is everyone's guess. And since it is only a guess I insist that we must go on building the Welsh Nation as if nothing had happened."

"Mr. Fox is right" said Elizabeth. "If we stop now and just wait out what will happen in England we lose the power we have to influence the future English Parliament in its choices!" She looked at Abercronby. "If we build a modern Monarchy in Wales it will be the example for England's lawmaker. If we do nothing they'll just go back to what existed before…" She smiled at the men sitting in front of her. "But then it is perhaps what you really whish?"

Abercronby smiled back.

"I must confess that somewhere not so deep inside me I long to go back to the old United Kingdom as it was! I'm not sure we old men should take those risks." He looked at Darcy and his wife. "You're young and you have that strong desire to build a better world. I, for my part, believe that the world, as it was, was just what we needed. I'm rather scared to end branded as a revolutionary!"

"Speak for yourself, Abe" interrupted Fox. "I, for my part, do wish to build a better world. I want my fellow citizens to have more rights, more decision making power and more wealth. I'm not too old to refuse to see that the British Society was full of injustice and that most of the Nation's wealth was in the hand of too few people with a real feeling for the good of the Nation as a whole. We must go on in Wales with what we wanted. And even if England comes back regenerating what was its institutions we should grant our people a few guarantees that at least in Wales, the lot of our people will be better than before." He looked at Fitzwilliam. "I'm quite sure it won't be the case if we stop now and wait. Let's build that societal laboratory I dreamed of and show to the whole of England –and the world- that it can be done and that it works!"

"By God Fox, you are a revolutionary!" said Abercronby.

"No I'm not!" countered Fox. "I am a man of faith and I just try to put the scriptures in effect! We all pretend being good Christians and we accept too easily that our privileges are normal even if they go against what the Holy Bible and Christ ask from us!" He looked at Darcy. "Let's do what we believed was worth doing! Let's not be stopped in our tracks by what could be the future in England but let's build the future of Wales as if nothing else happened!"

Elizabeth couldn't help but applaud.

"Yes! Let's do it!"

Abercronby and Darcy looked at each other and if Darcy smiled, Abercronby could only shake his head. With the consort at Fox' side his fight was a lost battle.

* * *

"We can stay till Saturday before going back to London" said d'Arcy. "We could go today but I don't want to rush you or your family. I've done what I came to do and for the next weeks the British Islands will be my base of operations."

Jane sighed. She was surprised to be so serene. With Lizzie and her parents present with her and Geoffrey she was quite satisfied with her lot. Staying or moving was of no importance as long as it was in company of the people she loved.

"I'd like to move with Lizzie and Fitizwilliam" said she finally. "We will be separated again when we are in London and she is in Cardiff, I'd like to have her at my side as long as possible."

D'Arcy stood up, took her in his arms and embraces her.

"You know, they won't stay for very long in Cardiff if they even care to go there in the first place. Those happy Welsh Monarchs will soon discover that the place to be is London!"

Jane frowned.

"How so?"

"Because of the necessity to build a new regime in England, dear. And the King of Wales having made his oath to do his utmost to rebuild the United Kingdom it's more than normal that he tries and ensures that the new Regime is well-matched with what they are building in Wales. Not to mention that I'll ask him to be present as the sole crowned British ruler in Britain. He needs to be seen in order to be considered as the right choice for the throne. Staying in Wales would be a bad idea even for his Welsh subjects. Their rights and future will be decided in London and he must be there to fight for them…"

Jane made a face.

"You're again manipulating him…"

Geoffrey put his best 'innocent' bystander mask on his face.

"Not my fault he needs so much coaching to be efficient! And you know as well as I that he doesn't trust my advice. I have no choice…"

Jane shook her head and sighed.

"I'm as guilty as you are. I'm so focused on having my sister with me in London that I won't even denounce your schemes to them."

She didn't see her husband's satisfied smile but she knew he was madly grinning behind her back.

* * *

"We should perhaps go on with our trip" said Mr. Bennet. "History has enfolded before our amazed eyes and the world has had the pleasure to discover the Bennet elders at their peak. As said time to go on…"

"I'm sure they won't stay for a very long period more" said Mrs. Bennet. "And besides, I and the girls are calling at madame Bonaparte's hôtel this afternoon. She has threatened us with quite a lot of other marvelous little shops... We can't leave her in the lurch!"

Mr. Bennet made a face and shook his head. His sparkling eyes were betraying his good humor.

"Must I remind you, Mrs. Bennet, that I'm a poor gentleman farmer whose means are in no way similar with those of lofty French Proconsuls or upstart Welsh Kings? You wouldn't want to push me in debtors' jail for my old days?"

Mrs. Bennet pouted her contempt.

"Since my darling girls know the miser you can sometimes be they have invited me! My little trip this afternoon will cost you nothing but the shame that your petty miserliness forces your sons in law to pay for the little things I need to be mother to such high ranking Nobility!"

Mr. Benet looked at himself in the mirror and nodded.

"You are right! I too am father to that same high ranking Nobility! I should perhaps come with you to buy that entire fancy stuff one, nowadays, needs to look like a highborn peacock!"

Mrs. Bennet couldn't help but laugh aloud.

"I should take you by your word and drag you with us through half of Paris and dozens of little boutiques. You'll die out of boredom within two hours!"

"Is that a challenge you're delivering?" asked Mr. Bennet while looking at his wife.

"Probably not" conceded Mrs. Bennet. "But only because your miserable look would spoil our afternoon! And your witty comments would probably strengthen our hostess' belief that English gentleman farmer are the worst guests possible!"

"Well if it is not a challenge I'll stay here to die slowly of boredom!"

Mrs. Bennet smiled at her husband and shook her head.

"You should ask Geoffrey to find you a guide to visit Paris. I'm sure there are lots of places you'd find interesting! There are libraries and museums and theaters and book shops you should visit before we leave. Once we are back in England I doubt very much that we will come back to Paris for a very long time. Must I remind you, even if you make efforts to let us believe it, that you are not becoming any younger?"

She shook her head and took her husband's arm. His smile showed that he was much cheerier than his previous words could have implied

"We stay till the girls decide to move" decided she. "Ask Geoffrey when he has the project to go back to England, I'm sure he already knows our agenda for the next weeks."


	61. Family Reunion

Chapter sixty-one: London Family Reunion

* * *

London, Tuesday the 23rd of October

* * *

"Aunt Gardiner" cried Kitty while jumping in her Aunt's arms. "We're back…"

"Kitty dear," smiled her Aunt while embracing her niece. "Where's your good education, dear. It's unseemly for a grown-up girl to act like that!"

"To Hell with all that stiff-necked English polite etiquette!" answered Kitty. "I'm happy and I want to show it to the people I love!"

"He proposed" whispered she at her Aunt's ear while they were in each other's arms.

Adeline couldn't help but laugh at her niece's enthusiasm.

She smiled at Charles who had stayed more subdued but whose smile was as large as Kitty's.

"Welcome back, Charles" said Edward Gardiner who was at home in this early evening. "Have you found what you were looking for?"

"We did" said Charles while putting a heavy accent on the 'we'. "But what's even more important, we came to an understanding and I hope you'll give me a few days more in order to offer me the possibility to ask officially your brother for his daughter's hand…"

Edward Gardiner's smile broadened and he embraced his young partner with a lot more than esteem.

"Welcome to the most original family west of the Ural, son," whispered he while tapping Charles on the back. "Glad you finally overcame that other niece of mine."

Charles shook his head.

"I didn't overcome her, Edward. I just realized that I wasn't the man she needed. I still love her but I'm happy to see her happy in Geoffrey's arms. And there's a world of a difference here! I'm another man, now. I know my place and what's even better I know who must be at my side and what I have to do to be happy with my lot!"

Edward Gardiner embraced his future nephew a last time and let him go.

"And what about your family history, have you got the answers you were seeking?"

That brought out a huge roar from both Kitty and Charles.

Adeline and Edward exchanged amazed glances before Kitty could answer.

"You'll see for yourself, Uncle, the family history came with us to London…"

* * *

"And so we chickened out of my Town House" concluded Charles. "And here we are…"

"You stay the night?" asked Adeline.

"No, no" said Charles while shaking his head. "I'm not Caroline's best friend but I do believe that tomorrow morning she'll be in need of a brotherly shoulder to cry. I'm sure Ma hasn't been very sympathetic with her and even if she had it coming I'm quite sure that twenty years scolding resumed in half a night will have shaken her to the bones. I hope Louisa has, for once, been able to play a positive role with Caroline…" He sighed. "But I'm quite certain she didn't!"

"We could call" proposed Mrs. Gardiner while looking at the clock. "It's not very late and if you invite us we could be there and spend the night at your town house. It would probably lessen the tensions and give Caroline the time to hide or to stand up to the challenge."

Charles looked at Mrs. Gardiner.

"Don't forget the Irish Wyrm we imported! She can be quite overwhelming…"

"I don't forget and if I proposed it is only because I'm dying of curiosity, Charles. I know I can't wait a minute longer…"

* * *

They finally arrived and they found the Hurst hiding in the study probably waiting for Ma's next summon.

Unusually Hurst wasn't drunk and he was holding his wife rather protectively.

Charles opened his mouth to give some explanations when the door to the parlor burst open and a weeping Caroline passed running toward the stairs.

Adeline Gardiner immediately took the hint, made a sign to Kitty and grabbed Louisa by the arm.

"Come on girls, your sister needs us, let's go help her…"

* * *

"So you are the finance magnate Charles speaks about day and night?"

"And you the imported Irish Wyrm whose goal is to conquer the world?"

Ma answered with a smile.

"That's the back-up plan, Mr. Gardiner. We'll launch it if necessary, only if necessary…"

* * *

"I didn't come here to open a financial negotiation" protested Edward Gardiner half an hour later.

"Bullshit" countered Ma. "You came here out of curiosity and since curiosity has a price, it's high time you begin to pay for it!"

"I won't pay a franc if the counterpart isn't worth a franc" countered Edward Gardiner. "And as it looks like you have nothing to propose which could be of interest for a Company like the one Charles and I are building."

"If he marries Catherine, you're family and we Biornas do have a strong family attachment. And sooner or later you'll discover that you need your own security force and that is exactly what I can provide: men and women with commitment, experience and loyalty! You won't find that very often nowadays, believe me!"

"I don't need a private army…" said Mr. Gardiner.

"Of course you need one; Charles has, during the journey, explained what sort of Company you are building. When one speaks of that kind of money, one can be sure that there will be jealousies and resentment. Don't forget that some petty people are very prone to use violence, and since they are petty people they will tend to use violence against those weak enough to be helpless. What will you do to protect your work gangs, your building sites and your tools? For now the French will provide what you need because of d'Arcy but once he's gone and with him his troops, who will stand up to protect your men and property? I say: best to be prepared and already have your own security!" She smiled at him. "I must confess that we Biornas are not very good when it comes to obey orders coming from foreigners! But we are the best when it comes to defend what's ours! And once my Charles has married your Kitty yours will be ours…"

Edward Gardiner looked at her and she could see that he could just very well imagine how what was his could become hers.

"We don't rob family" hissed Ma. "We will, of course, want to be compensated for what we do but we won't take what's not ours to take!"

Edward Gardiner sighed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't imply that you would rob me or the Company but you must understand that I don't really believe that we will need a security force. England has a police force which will provide a protection. The gendarmes d'Arcy has built won't disappear with him. They are all English and they will stay. No government would be foolish enough to dismantle them. And since they are good, while they are with us they will protect my people and my property!"

"Indeed" said Ma. "But this company of yours won't stay limited to England, you'll have ships and trade posts all over the world. Who will protect your men abroad? If your warehouses are plundered or set on fire or your ships are sunken by pirates where will your profit go? We Biornas are fighters –some say pirates– to the soul but we would be your fighters and your pirates!"

* * *

"You had it coming," said finally Mrs. Gardiner when Caroline was again able to understand what was being said around her. "I've never seen anybody treating me like you did. And if you have shown the same contempt you've shown me to your grandmother I'm not surprised at all that she came down on you like she did… You are the most insufferable young lady I've ever encountered! Of course being a lady of good manners myself I'd never had said anything about it! But now that it is in the open I don't see why we should continue to handle the situation with kid gloves! I'm the wife of a merchant and you are only the second daughter of a merchant. That should place us at least at the same level! But for I don't know what reason you believed yourself superior to everybody! Believe me we knew your father and never in his whole life would he have treated us like you did…"

Caroline didn't answer but Mrs. Gardiner could see at her frown and dark eyes that what had just happened hadn't taught her a thing.

"I see that my words have no effect on you and that you refuse to consider your own responsibility in what happened this evening." She sighed. "I'm not going to lose any more time with you, girl. Clearly you are beyond redemption and you'll need a few more time to taste the rough side of your grandmother's tongue before you understand the error of your ways." She looked at Catherine. "We have nothing more to do here, Kitty. Let's go somewhere where our concern is at least welcome."

* * *

When Kitty and her Aunt came back to the parlor, Ma greeted them with a smile.

"I suppose she's learned nothing?"

Adeline Gardiner made a face.

"You're right she's weeping because the world is so unjust to her, not because she has understood the error of her ways. I fear she'll never learn!"

Ma chuckled.

"Don't lose all faith. She's not born the girl who can deceive me. I've seen her eyes sparkle when I spoke of the Clan's heredity. She'll try to get into my good graces by playing the good girl, but I won't let her play me for a fool! And she'll soon notice that if I hate arrogance, I despise untrustworthiness even more!"


	62. Peace and War

Chapter sixty-two: Paris

* * *

Paris, Wednesday the 24th of October

* * *

The afternoon past has been full of laughter and gossip. The Bennet women had spent a pleasant time and had bought quite a few new accessories to adorn them. And, in the evening, they were all invited by Josephine. To everyone's surprise Napoleon had joined them and he had been a very charming and pleasant host for the whole evening. Since his English was for the worst and Mrs. Bennet's French was not very better Jane, whose French was perfect, had played the interpreter between them.

At their return at d'Arcy's _Hôtel particulier_ Mrs. Bennet was convinced that Napoleon was the most delicious of men –outside her own family– and she was definitely a true fan of the little Corsican.

When they all came back, rather late in the night, she wasn't surprised that her husband was still up and in the parlor, reading, while Fitzwilliam and Geoffrey were quietly talking together while nurturing a glass of red burgundy wine.

Edward Bennet smiled at his incoming tribe and closed his book.

"Well ladies, you are late…" said he with a little frown. "Some lesser men could have been worried!"

"Don't even try, papa," scolded Jane. "I sent a messenger with the boxes when Josephine invited us for dinner! You were forewarned and so had no reason to be worried. Moreover we were very soon in the pleasant company of the first Consul himself."

"And he is a real charmer," crooned Mrs. Bennet with a smile. "I often wondered how he did it to entrance so many people, now I know! That is a man who has his way with words and compliments and whose presence is more than impressing…"

Geoffrey and Fitzwilliam stood up and walked to their wives who soon were embracing them.

"Did he seduce you?" asked d'Arcy in a whisper.

"He tried" answered Jane. "But he never had a chance. My heart is bound forever!"

"I saw you first" whispered d'Arcy in her ear. "I'm the luckiest man born!"

They soon forgot the rest of the company to share a lover's kiss.

* * *

"I was worried" whispered Fitzwilliam in Elizabeth's ear. "I don't trust this city, too many enemies and not all of them are French."

Elizabeth shook her head.

"We were under Maureen and Kennedy's watchful eyes. And if you count Josephine's bodyguards we were surrounded by quite a few dozen people while roaming through Paris. And with Jane's fans popping all around us as soon as we stopped he would have been very foolish the would-be murderer."

"That's what my intellect has spent the evening telling me but my heart was worriedly lonely without you."

"I'm back and I'm quite ready to prove that I'm prepared to show you that the wait has been worth the while."

He smiled and pulled her against him.

"Well, let me see your preparedness!"

And soon they were gone after a quick good night.

* * *

Lydia and Georgiana smiled at each other after the second couple has disappeared to get what was left of a very well under way night.

"Where's Mary?" asked Lydia.

"She's probably asleep" answered Mr. Bennet. "They came back a few hours earlier with Emilie asleep in her father's arms. They put her to bed, spent an hour in our company and then went to bed."

"What about their wedding date?"

"Before Christmas, probably in a month from now," said Mr. Bennet. "They'd like to marry in England. Mary would have liked in Meryton but the fiancé isn't sure it would be compatible with his charges. But it would also depend on Kitty. We shall see what Kitty and Charles will decide, we could perhaps have a second double wedding be it in Meryton or somewhere else."

Mrs. Bennet beamed a smile.

"I'd like that very much" said she with a dreamy sigh just before shooting a warning glance at Lydia. "But I'll have your promise Lydia that this time you'll behave!"

"I already behaved at Jane and Lizzy's wedding, mama! I was just in advance on my time. We poor precursors do have a hard time with old reactionaries and has-been traditionalists. But that won't stop us to show the right road!"

Mrs. Bennet couldn't help but smile at her daughter's antics.

"Now that is enough! Go to bed both of you, it's high time!"

A few seconds later Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were alone in the parlor.

"What about going to bed for us, too?" said Mr. Bennet with a smile.

Mrs. Bennet took his hand and pulled him toward the door while wearing an impish smile.

"Indeed, let's go to bed."

* * *

"What are our plans?" Jane was still in bed with Maureen asleep at her side. Geoffrey was dressing up for his next official appointment.

"You are free to do what you want these next days; I'll go on with all the appointments I've taken all necessary measures to conclude my business here in Paris. And then, probably Saturday morning, we go back to London."

"No I was asking about our English plans! What are we going to do when in England?"

She heard his smile in his voice.

"I'll go on manipulating Fitzwilliam and everybody else until I get what I want…"

"And what do you want?" interrupted Jane.

He came out of their dressing room and sat at her side.

"What I want is a life at your side without having ever to let you out of my eyes…"

She sighed.

"And that's never going to happen, isn't it?"

He kissed her and shrugged.

"While I'm alive it is not very likely, _mon amour_," recognized d'Arcy. "But I'll do what is in my power to get it all the same."

"So now that we know what you want but won't get, what do you want with a real chance to get it?"

"I already have it" said he with a last kiss and a serious face. "I fear even my manipulation skills aren't enough to influence all of England for the choice of a regime or, if they chose a Monarchy, for the choice of a King. I hope Fitzwilliam will have a role to play but there are too many different actors in that play for me to have a real important influence." His smile came back. "But I'll try!"

* * *

"You see the Czar, today?"

Fitzwilliam looked a last time in his mirror and declared himself satisfied with his appearance. He wouldn't wear a uniform, since he was no soldier, but the coat he was wearing was perfectly cut and he found it quite enough for an informal encounter even if, between Kings, informal was a thing of the past.

"Yes he asked me to come at the embassy. I suppose we will, once more, speak of my future as King of England and of what the Russian Empire will await from his new British ally."

"Britain's future alliances are not yet very clear…" said Lizzy. "You have preferences?"

"Well I believe an alliance with France would be in our best interest. Especially while d'Arcy is first proconsul in charge of the abroad affairs. He'll be the best supporter we'll have at what will soon be the French court. But the Czar is very aware that with his industrial infrastructure still operational Great Britain will be an economic force in its own right within a few years. And Russia needs investors and bakers. England could be its best card for its development in the future. And the Czar wants to build a good relationship with me. He seems to trust me as a man."

"You are the last White Knight of Brittany, dear! Who wouldn't trust you?"

Fitzwilliam didn't answer. He was not so sure he was as his wife described him. He had made mistakes, even with her. When all was said he was as prompt to make mistakes as anybody else.

"Don't make the mistake to extrapolate my mistake with you on all your other decisions for the rest of your life. Don't forget that when all is said you were right and I was wrong… We're married and we're happy and that was what you thought possible from the very beginning."

He snorted.

"I was perhaps right with my demand but the form I gave it still does shame me."

Lizzie stood up and embraced her husband while lying her head on his back.

"The important thing is the decision, not the form you'll express it! Because, Your Majesty, for you the form has no longer any importance. You take the decision and you'll have at your disposal as many efficient and smart spokespersons as necessary to find the best formulation possible! That's the way it is with a King and that's the way it will be with you, dear!"

She forced him to look her in the eyes.

"So please, my love, let not your doubts spoil your potentials. Wales and even perhaps England needs you at your best." She turned him around and kissed him. "You've make me proud and I don't doubt that you'll make me even prouder in the coming years."

He smiled.

"I don't deserve you…" he whispered.

"Yes you do" countered she, "but since I'm so perfect I clearly deserve the best Fitzwilliam possible!" She embraced him before letting him go with a smile. "Go now and show them that England is coming back!"

* * *

"So, what do you think Mikhaïl Illarionovich?"

"I think that I'm glad we won't go at war against the French. I prefer them on my side than on the other side of my cannons," said the Fieldmarshal Kutuzov who just arrived in Paris.

The Czar made a face.

"It could still happen."

"Only if we mess it up mightily" countered Kutuzov. "Napoleon is no fool and d'Arcy is cool enough to remind him that Russia is not only an army but also a land and if the army can be beaten, the land will always win!"

"Do we have details about d'Arcy's Irish campaign?"

"There was no Irish campaign," said Kutuzov. "Not in the military sense of the term. It was one enormous rout followed by a systematic and ruthless take-over. The most interesting part was that we were able to study how d'Arcy uses his special forces." Kutuzov made a face. "I'm quite sure he would use them differently would he be attacking our country but I must say that I'm impressed with the tool he has built. They were there to quench all uprising and they did a marvelous job. I have no doubt that in England they were used to disorganize all resistance and to protect the infrastructure against random destruction. And perhaps other things we know nothing about. Those men are worth an army and what they did in England –where we have no reports at all but can see the results– was even more interesting."

"So you're impressed by d'Arcy?"

"Only a fool wouldn't" answered Kutuzov. "There's a man who prepares his campaign in such a manner that his armies' only use is the mop up of his routed enemies! And he has shown in England that he respects his foe's people and that he controls his men with an iron grip without losing the faith they have in him." Kutuzov signed. "That's for the man of war. What's even more impressive is his discretion in peacetime. We knew he existed because of his victories in Syria but while preparing his British invasion he just disappeared out of sight. And suddenly he reappears in Brighton. With seventy thousand men at his side! Napoleon was never a mystery for us, he is a peacock who loves to shine and be applauded and he craves for power and wealth. D'Arcy is just invisible when not at war. Look at the situation here in Paris: it is his wife who is in the limelight; she drains thousands of people and builds his reputation. But d'Arcy himself never appears anywhere. I doubt anybody outside the people who had been at the treaty signing had seen him. And even those who had seen him wouldn't probably recognize him if they crossed him in the street. He is a man who loves to disappear in the shadow. To be invisible! And invisible men are dangerous because you have no hold over them." He snorted. "And if I can be frank I'm more than interested in meeting him."

The Czar made a gesture half sorry half amused.

"It won't probably be today since my guest is the King of Wales and his future Prime Minister. But he is d'Arcy's brother in law and he should be a good path to get an entrance to him. I'll do what I can to get an invite for their next dinner party." He looked at the door of his apartments. "I'll ask Elizabeth to go through _madame_ d'Arcy. They seem to be in good terms she shouldn't have too great a difficulty to get us an invitation."

He was interrupted by the entrance of his butler.

"Your guests have arrived, Your Majesty."

* * *

"Your Majesty" said Kutuzov while bowing. "It's a pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine, general," answered Fitzwilliam. "I've heard a lot about you and your Turkish wars."

Kutuzov didn't try and hid his smile.

"Your brother I suppose?"

"Indeed" said Fitzwilliam. "He's quite certain that you are the best strategist at the Czar's service."

Kutuzov couldn't help but ask for more. As d'Arcy has foretold that he would!

And Fitzwilliam was kind enough to convey all the information Kutuzov was asking for.

After half an hour Kutuzov let out a heavy sigh and smiled at Fitzwilliam.

"I suppose he asked you to tell everything to me?"

"Only if you asked," answered Fitzwilliam. "Without your questions I wouldn't have spoken of military matters." He looked at Alexander. "I'm no specialist and as I understood it, it wasn't the reason for my invitation."

"And you were right," smiled Alexander. "Let the military problems to the generals and let's speak politics and economics. Because there's one truth in military matters; without the means to wage war you only get defeats." He looked at Kutuzov and Fitzwilliam. "I must confess that the Field marshal would like to speak with the famous d'Arcy, could you please, convey his plea to your brother?"

Fitzwilliam nodded in answer.

"No need to ask. As usual my brother has foreseen your general's demand. He will be welcome this afternoon at my brother's hôtel particulier. Geoffrey proposes four o'clock." He looked Kutuzov in the eyes. "Is it at your convenience?"

"It is, Your Majesty, it is…" smiled Kutuzov. "I'm burning with impatience."

Fitzwilliam's eyes went back to the Czar.

"You're, of course, welcome, your Majesty. If you want to partake to what will essentially be a military preparation reunion there's a seat at your disposal. There are rumors about Napoleon's presence also…" Fitzwilliam smiled at his host. "Your wife could share your trip since it seems that after yesterday's long afternoon and night everybody stays at home today. My wife and her sisters would be delighted to welcome your lovely consort!"

The Czar looked at his aide de camp who nodded.

"It seems that this afternoon is either free or occupied with events that can be postponed. I'll be there!"

* * *

"No we are not" answered d'Arcy to the Czar's question. "The military campaign will be a success even if we should play our different roles in total incoherence." He shook his head. "The Turkish Empire is at the brink of collapse. More than seventy percent of its territory is in the hands of local war lords who skim an important part of the Sultan's income for their own benefit. The Janissaries are more and more playing the role of late Rome's Pretorian Guards. Nobody, not even the Sultan, knows who will be in power next week. The only reason their Empire still exists was because England was playing the Turkish card against Napoleon and vice-versa. With France and England allied nothing will save the Turks. They just don't have nor the troops to resist to both our aggressions nor the means to muster enough new ones to have a chance. And if, as I'm sure of it, the Austrians follow us to get a chunk of their own of the Ottoman Empire, the Turks are just doomed. They'll perhaps stop one of us but the other, or others, will invade whole landscapes and free numerous people very happy to get rid of the Turks," d'Arcy once more shook his head. "No we are not here to decide how to conduct our military campaigns; we are here to put our cards on the table and to speak about how we see Europe in ten years!" He stopped the outcries with a very sharp gesture. "I know that most of you believe secrecy is the best way to attain the goal they crave but in this peculiar matter it is a foolish notion!"

He took a long breath and sighed finally.

"Look at us, gentlemen. We are about to launch an offensive which will include more than two hundred thousand men against a foe who, for years now, shows signs of decay and sloppiness. We will prevail! There is no question about the result." He shook his head. "We can do it smartly and lose less men, less money and less time or we can do it like idiots and spend the next ten years slugging out battles for a valley or a County after the other bleeding our countries to death and wading in rivers of blood… But," he hammered, "in the end we will prevail." He let his eyes roam the room where Duroc and Napoleon where sitting opposite to Alexander and Kutuzov. Fitzwilliam was sitting at his side and just looking at the scene. "And in the end we will face each other with behind us a more or less bloody but victorious campaign! And, believe me I speak of experience, there will be in every commander's mind the certainty that he has now at his disposal the best tool to go on and get what's left of the prize!"

He looked at Napoleon and the Czar.

"We are here to decide, if you are willing, when we stop fighting and what parts of the Ottoman territory we consider as being a necessary part of our future Empire." Once more he made a face while shaking his head. "I know it seems preposterous to share out what's not yet ours but, in fact, that's not what we are doing! We are considering what should be in a future where we are victorious. If we lose those coming battles what we are going to speak about will just make us smile at our own foolishness. But, if we are victorious, we must be very sure about what steps we are willing to take to live in harmony… Or not!"

Kutuzov snorted.

"You're right about seeming preposterous, monsieur. Why waste time on things that will probably never happen?"

D'Arcy studied the old officer and finally nodded.

"If we launch the common campaign we envision, it will happen, I have no doubt. The men under my command are eager to end what we began a few years ago. They were very frustrated when the Directory concluded the cease fire with Istanbul. They know, as well as everybody else with common sense, that we would have been in the Ottoman Capitol city within six months had they not signed. And believe me or not but since our last victory in Syria the situation in the Empire has only worsened." He sighed. "No, it is certain that we will end this war by looking at each other over a line of artillery! If we don't make now the effort to iron out what we can in prevision of this event, we will end up at each other's throat." His most shark-like smile adorned his lips. "If I have the shot, I have no doubt at how that confrontation will end!" Kutuzov didn't flinch and hold his gaze. "But it would be a waste of good men and good money! Even if I'm sure that I'm the better commander and that my men will even be better after another victorious campaign than now, it will be the first time they will have to go against grizzled veterans who will stand till the very end. No, in truth, we should work out now all the details in order to eliminate the slightest chance of a war between us. Better to use that sort of resources to strengthen what we will have conquered."

He glanced a last time at all the men present and finally sat down.

"If you don't know yet why you envision launching that campaign, it would perhaps be a good idea to think about it now…"


	63. Doubts

Chapter sixty-three: London

* * *

London, Thursday the 25th of October

* * *

"Impressing old Lady…" said Mrs. Gardiner.

"That she is indeed" agreed Mr. Gardiner. "A little overwhelming and with quite a lot of will power she's using to press her opponents into surrendering, but interesting nevertheless."

"Do we need so much muscle?"

Mr. Gardiner looked at his wife and made a face.

"You don't stop amazing me, dear. I always knew that you were following my business from the outside, but I wasn't quite aware that you never failed to know what happened at work. How do you do it, dear?"

"I have my sources" said she with a smile. "But you are dodging the answer I'm looking for."

He sighed and shook his head.

"I don't know but I'm afraid we do, dear. I was really thinking about hiring a few of our nephew's men out of his special forces but with the Biornas we get an even better opportunity. We get what could be called an armed family to protect us."

"We need protection? You never even hinted at it."

He took her hand and placed a kiss on it.

"I didn't want to worry you but we indeed need protection. You've probably seen that most of the new staff we hired was more or less on the brawny side of humankind. Even the children's new maids have been instructed by d'Arcy's security forces and do know how to act if something dangerous should appear in their immediate vicinity. But I'm at a stage where I'm going to need protection even outside the family for which d'Arcy is providing more than competent and numerous people. I really fear that I'll soon have to extend such measures to my immediate staff and their family. We are lucky and we have a very good image with the poor people in London and I'm quite sure that my family and my staff members can walk in London's streets without risking anything from the locals. But we are now entering the realms of old and envious money and of foreign interests and I refuse to fool myself by considering that within those communities we have no enemies."

Mrs. Gardiner came and embraced her husband.

"We already had those enemies before. For as long as I remember, they have let us known that they didn't like us!"

"But they didn't consider us a danger for their positions. Now they do! And some of them are not above using hired killers to get a message over."

"So we will soon have Irish manservants?" teased Mrs. Gardiner.

"No, I won't change my staff of trusted servants" answered her husband. "I know them all for years and d'Arcy has guaranteed the trustworthiness of all those he has brought into our service. They'll be at the core of the family retainers, but we'll need to increase the number of people helping us and I'm quite sure that a large number of those newcomers will have thick Irish accents."

"We'll have to take measures to help them blend in, dear! Now that Ireland is no longer a part of the British United Kingdom, I fear there will be displeasure if we start hiring foreigners."

"We will need foreigners by the scores" said Mr. Gardiner. "I have already problems finding workers for everything we are building. I'm importing manpower from towns all around London. And I'm still unable to launch everything that needed to be done. It's rather unsettling how everything has changed within these six last months. Last march I was refusing twelve people a day who were looking for a job and today I'm sending recruiters to villages and small towns all over Southern England to find lads and lasses suitable for my projects." He sighed. "I doubt very much that I'll find the people I need to do everything I want to do."

"Which is a good thing" said Mrs. Gardiner. "The wages are increasing and most of the families are now much better off than a few months before. Women are no longer forced to send their children do menial work in factories just to have their families survive!" She looked her husband in the eyes. "You've done more for England's people in a few months than any King in a thousand years!"

"I wasn't alone" smiled Mr. Gardiner who quite loved the admiring shine in his wife's eyes. "Without you and Geoffrey and Jane and Charles I wouldn't have been able to succeed." Once more he sighed. "But even with their help and money I just can't do everything that's needed. We need schools to teach those young people to read and write or they won't be able to use their wits and talents as I'd wish them to do. We will be forced to use old barns as schools for months and I dread what we will do in Winter."

"We'll cross a bridge after the other, dear. I'm quite sure the lads and lasses who you'll get from England's villages will have a hide thick enough to survive a few months spent in a school-barn learning. They'll be privileged and they'll know it very soon. Even Jane's Schools won't be able to accomodate their first pupils before fall of next year."

"Perhaps it will take even longer, I'm not sure there are enough teachers in the whole United Kingdom for what we envision. I alone need dozens of them. Where will we find them? Teachers don't grow on trees…"

Mrs. Gardiner smiled at her husband.

"We will use what's available to us, that's all! Jane has already said that she will try and convince as much young women as possible to embrace the job of a children's teacher. It will be, for quite a few years, their only hope to have the means to be independent. I'm sure there will be quite a lot who will follow Jane's call. You'll have all the men!"

Mr. Gardiner smiled back at her.

"I'll need the best to form the next generation and I must remind you that our best university teachers have been deported to Corsica. We'll be in conflict with the staff of the Colleges who want to reform the teaching communities of Oxford and Cambridge."

"And you'll win; I have no doubt about it. You'll give them the best career opportunities and the most money, they will gather around you and they'll show to all the men of meaning where the future of England is being written."

"I fear it is not as simple as that, dear. Not that I begrudge the opportunities Geoffrey has offered me but, from time to time, I felt myself quite unsatisfied with the recent political situation. We didn't have the best regime or even the best ruler but we were independent because of our own strength. Now our freedom is nothing more than a French gift. It is not easy to bear one's personal and familial success when it has been born out of a political defeat of such magnitude."

Mrs. Gardiner tightened her embrace.

She knew that that sentence was at the core of her husband's worst nightmares. That their personal success could be based on England's disappearance as a world power had been difficult to accept. It was evident to her that her husband would never have felt totally unsoiled in a world where he could be seen as having taken advantage of England's defeat.

She didn't say what she was tempted to say because she knew it wouldn't help. What would have helped would have been the proof that her husband's success was also England's people's success. Until then he would have felt guilty.

As would she! Thanks to Jane and her husband that would never happen and she knew that they were about to transform England in a land where the standards of living would be similar to nowhere else. And that would help her husband more than anything else to overcome the origin of their good fortune.

* * *

Lebrun couldn't help but smile. He had been officially nominated as the Provisory Consul of England in charge of the implementation of the new English regime. As it was a tradition for post-Revolutionary France he would summon a constituent assembly which would have the doubtful honor to flesh out the outlines of England's future political system.

And while the English would debate how to be ruled he and Gardiner would build the most efficient economic and fiscal model Earth has seen for the last two thousand years.

He smiled. He had studied Roman laws and he was quite sure that his plans would give England the best economic and fiscal model _ever_ but there were legends even he couldn't destroy. So he accepted the slight limitation History demanded.

And since the English economy would blossom like a giant mushroom, the land's riches would be multiplied at least tenfold.

Who would be able to spend those riches that would be the task of the constituent assembly. He and Gardiner would have given to the new Regime the means to build a new better world.

What would finally see the light was another matter.

But he would have the possibility to test his and Gardiner's theories and axioms. And, as he was convinced, these theories and axioms had the results they hoped he would be able to induce Napoleon to follow suit and soon all of Europe would be the center of a new economic revolution. And if the political systems had been shaken and transformed by the French Revolution, the economic Revolution was still to be made. But he was about to launch it and he was sure that in the end the world would be a better one.

* * *

George Darcy was angry.

Not that it was an exceptional emotion these last days but his anger was increased by his impossibility to do anything about the situation. He has tried to bribe his way out of the jail and soon his incarceration has become less luxurious and a lot less sympathetic.

So now he just shut up and listened to the news.

And the news were…

He couldn't really decide. Was it a good news to have a brother who everybody believed responsible for England's fate?

Well, in fact everybody was awarding England's freedom to d'Arcy wife's doing. But the fact that Fitzwilliam had gone to Paris and had brokered with napoleon and befriended the Czar had been, in the eyes of most people, be they wardens or inmates, a major feat.

And they all believed that his brother was a great man.

He had tried to belittle him and his face was still showing the traces of his inmates' obvious disagreement.

And since he had nothing better to do with his time George had begun to think. Think about himself and think about the situation.

And, to his great surprise, he had begun to see his situation in another light. Even if all the Lords of the realm gathered to stop Fitzwilliam in his tracks toward England's Monarchy Fitzwilliam would still have the support of the people and go on being the most popular Darcy of History.

Of course he wasn't as popular as d'Arcy but d'Arcy was… d'Arcy! The people admired him and were in awe before him but he also frightened them. As he frightened him!

But as a side effect Fitzwilliam Darcy was seen as the man who had seen and grabbed all the opportunities a bad situation has generated.

So as it looks like he would soon be the half-brother of at least a Duke of the Realm –if not the King of England- and he would have, in his own right the reputation of an active opponent to the French. He had shown enough courage and determination to probably get a Title just for his actions against the French.

He could build something for himself. Without taking anything away from anybody.

He was still angry but now he was angry at himself.

His greed and envy had smothered his intelligence and pushed him into doing things which had probably triggered the enmity of most of his family.

And if he was quite sure that Fitzwilliam would forget and forgive, he knew that d'Arcy wouldn't! He was quite smitten with his wife and even if he was passed out while his wife was hurt and injured he probably knew that his poor sods of accomplices had had the prospect to kill her. He hadn't pushed them into that scheme but he had done nothing to change their mind and d'Arcy would remember it. And d'Arcy was not the forgiving type, he would make him pay.

By God, he was now in the perfect situation to build a fortune and a Family Tree of his own but, because of some sodding idiots who were too focused on themselves to respect a man's wife; he was condemned to have to go on trying to kill d'Arcy!

Life really wasn't fair with him.


	64. Scandal

Chapter sixty-four: Paris Scandal

* * *

Paris, Friday the 26th of October

* * *

"When was the last time I said that I love you?"

Jane smiled at her husband and cuddled against him.

"Yesterday evening?"

"I'm sure I said it meanwhile" said d'Arcy. "It's the most important fact of my life, I'm sure I'm saying it even in my dreams."

Jane turned around and looked her husband in the eyes.

"I'm a sound sleeper dear, I couldn't say. But you don't need to say it, I see your love in every glance you cast toward me." She smiled. "And I bask in them."

"Indeed I need to say it" said d'Arcy. "I need to remind myself that the world has changed and that I'm the most privileged man in the world." He kissed his wife while his hand stroked Maureen's bare back. "I'm loved by two marvelous women who happen to like each other enough to be able to accept the other openly…"

"Too openly…" grumbled Maureen. "I'm sure half of Paris knows about our arrangement! We should have stopped while here."

Jane climbed over her husband and grasped her sister's hand.

"No," said she. "I refuse to let the outside world dictate this part of our life. I'm satisfied and happy with the situation and I'd like very much if you'd stop to feel guilty about it."

Maureen turned around and smiled at Jane.

"It's not so easy for me! I'm not the pleasant soul you are. I'm hateful and vengeful and I still don't understand how it is possible that you don't hate me for loving your husband…"

"She's just unable to hate, that's why!" laughed d'Arcy. "There is no shadow anywhere in her! And we are fortunate to be loved by her." He grabbed both and kissed them. "I'm fortunate to be loved by you, Ladies!"

They showed him that he was indeed. Maureen by accepting his invitation, Jane by discreetly withdrawing. She had just had all his full attention and she was quite satisfied with what she had gotten. She looked at her husband and he saw the glint in his eyes. She sent him a last kiss and went into their palatial bathroom. One part of her regretted her withdrawal but another was strangely satisfied. One day she would have to look at that inner contradiction of her.

One day, but not yet.

* * *

"Shouldn't we do something?" asked Mr. Bennet.

His wife looked up and shook her head.

"It's Jane's life we wouldn't be welcome to give advice."

"It's not normal our daughter has to share her husband with another woman" grumbled Mr. Bennet. "I should speak with our son."

"It's all Jane's doing, dear" said Mrs. Bennet. "Geoffrey would never have even proposed it if Jane hadn't insisted. She had to choose between sharing him or destroying her. Her choice was clear for me from the beginning."

Mr. Bennet couldn't help but sigh.

"Won't she, one day, be unhappy with the situation?"

Mrs. Bennet shook her head.

"I doubt it very much, dear. She's not cut out of normal human flesh. I know that she was, at the beginning of her marriage, jealous. We spoke about it. But when she became aware of Maureen's inner turmoil she looked at her jealousy and pondered what she should do. And within minutes she knew that what she really wanted was seeing Maureen happy and content. And to get that peculiar result, her jealousy had to disappear." She snickered. "And she made it disappear!"

Mr. Bennet shook his head.

"You do as if it is enough to look at one's defaults to make them disappear. It's not as easy as that!"

"I know, dear, I know. But then it's the reason why I'm convinced that our daughter isn't made of normal flesh and blood. We are unable to do it, for her it is very real. It's probably because she's looking at it from another perspective. We look at our little defaults as being parts of us; sometimes we even believe that those defaults are what make us ourselves. She doesn't look at them in that fashion. She just wonders at their usefulness. As long as it is useful she keeps it but as soon as she's convinced that it hinders her in the path she needs to follow she just erases it. And once out of the way she will just forget that it even existed."

Mrs. Bennet took a long and thoughtful breath.

"I can't really explain it with words. Once upon a time when I first suspected how she was geared up I imagined that for her they were tools she was discarding when no longer useful. But a tool is always useful if the same situation occurs. So she's not acting on the tool, she's acting on the occurrence of the situation. Why is a woman jealous? Because she's afraid that another will come and take away what's hers. A normal reaction would be to grab the loved one with renewed energy and to look out to be sure to spot prospective mistresses before he can do it. Doing this has two consequences: first, because of your possessiveness, you smother your loved one's pleasure to be with you and, second, you stop considering him as the most important being to give all your attention to outsiders. The result is automatic; you'll lose the one person you thought being the most important part of your life. Jane didn't do that mistake. She acted on the occurrence and the occurrence is possessiveness! She accepted the fact that he loving her isn't the same thing as her owning him! So she granted him the most extraordinary gift a human being can give: utter confidence. His love is the only thing she ever wanted to possess and by granting him his freedom she got just that!"

Mr. Bennet couldn't help but shake his head.

"I want to believe you, dear, but I'm worried. I really hope you're right because it would be terrible to see her betrayed."

"Geoffrey won't betray her, he loves her and she grants him more than he would have asked for. Our daughter is probably the strongest creature he has ever encountered and she has no doubt about her love for him and his love for her. It is enough to secure her confidence in their couple and Maureen's love and presence won't disrupt the trust they share. Believe me, dear when I say that I have all confidence in her! You don't have to worry; she's safe."

* * *

"Never would I have believed such things possible" whispered Georgiana.

She and Lydia were waiting in one of the studies the arrival of Lydia's Prussian prince who had invited them to a Grand Tour of the French Capitol city.

"What things?" asked Lydia while continuing to study the pieces on the chessboard in front of her.

She didn't see Georgiana blush.

"Well what is happening in Geoffrey's bedroom…"

Lydia looked up and her face was showing an amazed expression.

"Such things happen in most bedrooms, Georgie!" A smile appeared on her face. "Or I very much hope so!"

This time there was a shocked expression on Georgiana's face.

"You can't be serious, Lydia! There are…" she hesitated, "…things that shouldn't happen in a proper household."

This time Lydia couldn't help but laugh out aloud.

"Come on Georgie, that's what life is about. Love, sharing, making experiences and growing up with a happy and satisfied smile on one's lips! What should never happen in any household is betrayal and disloyalty! But love and happiness, there can never be enough!"

"Fitzwilliam wouldn't…"

"Neither would Lizzie" agreed Lydia. "In her own way she's a lot more prudish than Jane." Lydia's smile grew to amazing proportions. "But who knows, it is said that my eldest sister has quite a lot of influence on her younger siblings! Since I'm already quite an adept, it could perhaps happen that, under the awful and willful influence of those French perverts the Darcys could be able to get some new experiences of their own…"

"You should pay more attention to what you say, one could believe that you are a wanton girl" whispered Georgiana while looking around them.

Lydia laughed at her friend's worry.

"I'm quite sure that those rumors are already running amok all over the City! I don't no longer mind what petty people think of me. I won't let the others shape my life in directions they believe appropriate. I won't do anything foolish that could disgrace my family or my friends but I won't accept to be restricted in a certain role. Thanks to Geoffrey I have the means to be choosy in matters matrimony and thanks to Fitzwilliam I am now Royalty! We are now Royalty, Georgie! We have the duty to be a bit eccentric in our behaviors!" She stood and grasped Georgiana by the shoulders. "We no longer can be petty in anything, the world looks at us, we must be exemplarily excessive! So let's find ourselves Royal faults!"

* * *

"It is more or less an image that fits him" said Josephine to Constant who was her friend and her best informant. "But I'm more than surprised with her acceptance of the situation. I don't know if I could share in such a way. I know of Napoleon's mistresses and they don't matter since they are only his way to flaunt his virility but it would matter if he had brought one of them to share our bed."

"She's very uncommon in more than one way, madame. The domestic staff is quite smitten with her. The only information I can get come through my personal spies. The others just don't blabber about what's happening in the house. I already knew that they were d'Arcy's loyal followers but now it seems that they have included his wife and mistress into their loyalty base. It is refreshing to know that people like madame d'Arcy still exist. I wouldn't have bet a penny on that fact a few weeks earlier."

"She's indeed a lovable creature" agreed Josephine. "I suppose that we shouldn't be so amazed by her ways. I saw her do it with almost everybody we met. She makes people trust her and, what's even more admirable, she's worth the trust she gets."

Josephine sighed and looked once more at Constant's report. It wasn't the same as her husband's because they weren't focusing on the same matters.

"So there's nothing within this story to use against d'Arcy?"

"In my opinion, no! The French people –women even more than men- love that their rulers show seduction and virility. D'Arcy being one of the most famous, the people want him to have successes in every field that matters. The only one who would suffer would be the wife who could be seen as having been cheated on. There is, since she is very popular, the chance that the public frowns at him for cheating on her but it's not worth the risks. It would probably annoy him and he would take measures to cull my information sources. We would lose more than him."

Josephine nodded and her smile was soon back.

"Well; it's rather good news. I'd have hated it to make her suffer. I quite like her…"

"You are not the only one" smiled Constant. "Most of the people she had encountered praise her to the skies and do an excellent work of making her more popular. Try to be seen with her at least once more and your association with her could very well give you the status you still lack with the common people."

"I'm scared of crowds. It makes me itchy…"

"Let her do the speaking and greeting and just stay at her side in a more or less protective role. You could be seen as her guide and mentor and it would be an excellent image to further your own popularity."

Josephine nodded and summoned her servants.

"You're right we have a last day with her in Paris, let's use it at full!"


	65. Insights

Chapter sixty-five: Paris

* * *

Paris, Friday the 26th of October

* * *

"The women are all outdoors" said Mr. Bennet with a satisfied sigh. "I love them all but it is so much calmer without them. I do long to be alone in my study in Longborne."

"You are a bear, father" said Fitzwilliam who, for once, had neither meeting nor State visit to occupy him and who had seized the opportunity of the females' outing to sit at the chimney with a book and an excellent wine.

"Don't patronize me, son. You long to be at home in Pemberley, I see it at your eyes. You have no choice but to confess it immediately!"

Fitzwilliam sighed.

"Indeed Pemberley is the only thing I really miss. It has been already too long since I was able to walk in my gardens and smell the wonderful air of Derbyshire."

Mr. Bennet looked at his son in law and smiled. He could read his mind with ease.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Fitzwilliam shook his head.

"Don't take me for a fool, father. You know quite well what is disturbing me. I'm still not at ease with what is about to happen to me."

"You mean you dread what is going to happen to you, don't you?"

Fitzwilliam nodded.

"I'm scared shitless, that's the truth, father. I still can't fathom that all those people really believe I'm the best choice for England's throne." Once more he shook his head. "They must be crazy, I see no other explanation."

"Well count me in the lot, boy with one exception, for me you're only second choice but I fear my first choice won't be accepted by my fellow Englishmen!"

"They could at least ask him" whined Fitzwilliam. "I'm sure the right arguments could easily convince him to grab the crown and stay in England at his wife's side. And, God, would I be happy to hand him out that burden."

"Politically it would be unreasonable, Fitzwilliam. He has, I'm sure you will agree, everything a King needs to have to be a real Ruler. He has a brain he's able to use most of the time, he has charisma and presence and he can, when needed, be a ruthless and pitiless son of a bitch. But…"

"But he is French…" concluded Fitzwilliam. "And in the present situation it would give a false signal to the rest of Europe about what is happening here. And so, neither d'Arcy nor the Consuls will accept his accession to England's throne."

Mr. Bennet snickered.

"Which left you, dear boy. You have charisma and presence, you have a very capable brain and you have the ethics of a Knight of the Round Table. Not as efficient as ruthless and pitiless but way better then fat and foolish and German!"

"And I'm his brother…" grumbled Fitzwilliam.

"And you are his brother and his very popular wife is your wife's favorite confident. Nobody in all of England can throw those same advantages into the equation. I fear you're the best we will get for a very long time!"

Fitzwilliam opened his mouth to protest but Mr. Bennet stopped him with a vehement gesture.

"Don't, Fitzwilliam! I've already heard all your arguments and as it was the first time you argued with them they are still scant. You know as well as I the ultimate reason you'll stop fighting the inevitable ending!" He waited and looked at his son in law. After a few minutes of a heavy silence, Fitzwilliam sighed.

"England needs me…" whispered Darcy.

"Indeed, son" agreed Mr. Bennet. "When all is said and done this is the ultimate argument: if in the end England needs you; you quite well know that you won't ignore that old Lady's call."

* * *

"How do you do it?" asked Josephine when, in the late afternoon, they finally arrived at Josephine's abode where they would dine and spend their last Parisian evening chatting and gossiping. The rest of the party, save Maureen of course who was never at more than two yards from Jane, had scattered to find armchairs somewhere in a house they already knew quite well.

"I do nothing" answered Jane who had no doubt about what Josephine was talking about. "They probably feel that I like being with them, speaking with them, listening to them." She looked at the older woman. "The most important thing is that I have no fear of them, Josephine! I have felt very early in my life, that what separates people is the fear that burrows in their guts. I have spent quite a long time pondering why good relations between lovely and sympathetic people soon begin to fade into mistrust and jealousy. And the answer I found very easily: it all comes down to fear. Fear is what eats our trust and our confidence away. And we nurture that fear with a vicious fortitude. The only time in your life where fear isn't present is when you are very young. But our mothers' fear is soon ready to jump on our little loved ones. Too soon we teach our kids to be prudent and not to trust any stranger. And soon their mistrust develops in fear and their fear feeds the fear of the people, small or grownup, they encounter. And the vicious circle begins or continues." A smile came on Jane's lips. "The most important thing you have to do to break that circle is to quench the fear your parents have carved in your soul for the very best reasons in the world. It will be one of the most difficult tasks in your life. You must understand that fear has a strength of his own. Fear is not the result of an outside danger; it is the result of your parents' own fear they shared by loving you. Your own lack of confidence feeds it day after day. And soon fear rules your life!" Jane shook her head and shared a hand squeeze with Josephine. "But it is not a fatality. I was quite young when I encountered the consequences fear had on my life and I decided to study it very thoroughly. And one day we met…"

There was a long silence.

"Let's just say that it was the most important encounter of my life and that fear lost the battle. And once fear is vanquished you'll never have to be afraid of it coming back without your knowing it. When I married Geoffrey and he confided in me his former life, I saw its ugly little face coming back, trying to convince me that I had to fear those other women he had loved! For a time it snaked itself back in my life under the disguise of jealousy which is nothing else than fear of losing the being you love and the fear of not having a strong enough love to keep him. But, as said, fear has its own unpleasant stink and I soon recognized it." She looked at Maureen and a loving smile came on her lips. "I had help but I was, once more, able to chase it out of my consciousness. But for long years I believed that I had destroyed it. I was wrong; it just hid deep inside me waiting on the moment to get back the helm of my life. But now I know better and I feel where it hides. He won't come back without me seeing it! And without your own fear able to answer to your opposite's fear you have the choice which emotion you want to share with them. I choose love because it is the easiest and strongest feeling I had in me. And I never regretted it…"

"What you describe is like a spiritual experience…" whispered Josephine.

"I know nothing of spiritual experiences! But I do know a lot about feelings and sharing them. Fear isn't a pleasant companion. Fear wants to rule you and to smother all other emotions. Love, on the contrary, is the most pleasant of all emotions and love blossoms when in company, be it other people or other emotions. Love rules my life while it is fear that rules the lives of most of the people I meet. And since they feel there's no fear in me their own fear has nor fuel nor reason to take over."

"It sounds so easy when you say it…"

"That's because it is easy! The only difficult thing, but it was the most difficult thing I'd ever done in my life, you have to do is to look your fear in the eyes and banish it in some hidden corner of your soul where it withers away… At the condition that you don't nurture it anew!"

A bright smile lit up the study where she was speaking with Josephine.

"And life becomes the most fabulous experience you can dream of with knights in shining armors courting you, marvelous and happy sisters supporting you and lovable and indulgent parents basking at you. Of course, there are also the kidnappers and the political opponents who try and convince you that life has other aspects which are not as happily endured. But all in all, I rather like what I've got for a life."

Josephine couldn't help but laugh at the real pleasure Jane was radiating.

She was rather cheered by the fact that Jane d'Arcy was still able to laugh at herself.

It was easier to live with her secret while laughing with her guest.

Jane, who hadn't let go of her hand became very serious and looked her hostess in the eyes.

"I'm willing to listen if you want, Josephine. Be sure that this part of our conversation will be our common secret. I'm probably the worst liar you ever encountered but on matters that touch my friend's intimacy I'm willing to be very secretive and stubborn."

"Friend? I'm nobody's friend," said Josephine with a smirk.

"You're mine if you wish. I won't insist but let it be known that I'm a good listener and that I don't speak about intimate matters that belong to friends. I have no secrets from my husband in all matters which belong to us but what's confided in trust to me stays with me."

"Why would I need to confide something to you?"

"A shared burden is always lighter to handle" answered Jane with a little cryptic smile. She cocked her head to the side, her eyes always following those of her hostess. "As said I'm good listener and sharing is the thing I master best."

Josephine's eyes made a fast movement toward Maureen who just stood there no emotions visible neither on her face nor in her body language.

"I trust Maureen with my life and secrets everyday but if you want I'll ask her to move away a few yards. She won't like it but she won't protest…"

Maureen who was just opening her mouth sighed, smiled at her sister and moved away out of hearing range.

There was a moment of pregnant silence and finally Josephine sighed.

"I'm no longer able to bear children and I'm too cowardly to say the truth to my husband who wishes nothing more than having an heir!" She shook her head. "I'm doomed because I know exactly how he will react the day the truth will come out."

She saw at Jane's frown that she was imagining utterly wrong reactions.

"Nothing brutal, I reassure you but he will withdraw himself immediately and go out to look for the best royal breeder available on the marriage market! And since he will feel betrayed he won't look back even for a moment. I'll lose him forever and I can't accept the idea." She sighed. "I dread how he will react to my holding back the news but I just can't risk losing him too early." She looked at Jane through misty eyes. "I love him, you know, and life without him is a nightmare I don't want to live too soon even if it is an inevitable nightmare for me."

Jane, who was still holding Josephine's hand, was struck by the other woman's distress. She was literally radiating dread and fear toward her. Of course she refused to let her opposite's fear invade her and she dis as usual: she grabbed the dreadful feeling and reduced it until it had shrunk to a tiny point of black light. And when it was thus, she breathed light in it. And what was threatening became friendly and what was heavy became light. But this time it went all wrong.

The light she breathed into the tiny black point did its work but didn't stay put. It overwhelmed the spot she was working on and began to spread all over herself and Josephine.

Jane was suddenly very aware of the other woman's presence. As if she just appeared before her. She forced herself not to frown. No reason to worry her friend.

But it was difficult because for the first time in her life she could see the life –she supposed it was that- flow through her and the woman whose hand she was holding. Jane had been very thorough while studying to become a midwife and her knowledge of female anatomy was at its best in regard of her time's understanding.

And what she was now able to see was a confirmation of what she knew and something quite different. Her body and Josephine's were not only flesh and blood but light and energy. There were rivers of light flowing through hers and Josephine's body and what was even more amazing was the discovery that she was able to direct the light out of her own body!

If she willed it she could wave tendrils of light which could influence the rivers of light which flowed through Josephine's body. She stopped immediately and forced herself to retract into the role of a simple observer. She closed her eyes and wasn't surprised at all to be able, even with closed eyes, to perceive all the energy currents flowing through herself and the woman whose hand she was holding. And soon she could perceive the differences. Her light currents were smoothly flowing through her without ever stopping. Every part of her body was irrigated by scores of light tendrils. And it was an amazing and joyful sight. She soon was able to see that within her belly she was hosting two little light constructions which were the most beautiful structures she'd ever seen. She suddenly was filled with awe and gratitude in a measure she'd never felt before! And in answer to her awe and gratitude she was immediately packed up with an energy she was unable not to identify as the essence of life itself. Essence that came from all around her and sustained her with strength and awareness!

She 'looked' at her hostess' light frame and could soon see that, contrary to her, her lights currents didn't flow smoothly at all. There were numerous spots were currents stopped and coalesced into blots of fading light. And there were so many 'holes' in her friend's aura that she could literally see her energy sipping away while nourishing a host of ugly little leaches that were hovering all around her.

With a hand gesture she wasn't even aware of Jane cleaned the room of all the leaches that had no choice but to flee.

And then Jane looked at the task awaiting her and went to work.

* * *

Josephine saw immediately the change in her guest's demeanor. One second she was her normal smiling and sympathetic self and the second after she was something else. No, not something, someone! The smile was still there but it had changed in essence. It was no longer the smile of a friend. It was still friendly but there was other emotions in that smile, love, of course, but also understanding and compassion. Those being the easiest to identify. But, by far, they were not the only ones.

Josephine who had grown up in the Caribbean Island of the Martinique had seen her share of Voodoo magic and had been witness to more than one 'transformation' of a voodoo priest into… something else. And it was quite the same here. Jane d'Arcy became something else but, contrary to the voodoo priests whose new self was always black and fear-inspiring the new Jane was a beacon of light and Josephine knew intimately that her little hand gesture had been a feat in its own right!

As if she just had been cleansed by a magical broom.

"I shall help you, Rose" said Jane in a voice that was hers but not hers. "You're still able to give life but your second delivery has damaged your belly and scarred the inside of your womb which built a plug the male semen is unable to bridge. The scarred tissue can probably be partially removed thanks to fasting. If the fast has no result, you'll have to consider a surgery…" Jane's French was as fluent as normally but there was no longer any trace of her exotic little accent. "But try to fast first. A first time in the Spring and a second time in the Fall. Fast for at least ten days, longer is possible if you feel strong enough to go on till your tongue is no longer coated white. Don't force yourself and don't do it alone. Try to find a place where you'll be quiet and safe and with lots of trees. Trees help to make the fasting easier. And don't forget to ask for help each time you feel like needing it!"

* * *

"…Needing it!"

Maureen had seen the change in her sister's behavior and was as awe struck as Josephine's face showed. There was something in Jane's sudden behavior and tone that spoke of 'unearthly' and of possession.

In Maureen's mindset born out of Catholic Christianity there could be no good explanation for such an odd behavior.

But Ireland had been, before becoming a stout Catholic stronghold, a place of magic and mysteries. And old songs and poems were still chanting the tale of the Old Gods and even older Goddesses.

And lots of songs still spoke of Mother Earth who was served by priestesses who were able to speak and act in her name. And since Maureen knew deep in her heart that Jane wasn't –and couldn't be- possessed by evil forces she decided that the woman she loved and valued had been chosen by the Earth Goddess to protect womanhood whenever possible.

* * *

"…Needing it!"

Jane finally came out of her trancelike state with a shudder. She was perfectly aware of what had just happened and it felt that the world was so much less pleasant when she was conscious of her limited surroundings.

It had been so neat and safe while she was in that other amazing state.

"Sorry" said she finally, her accent and common quirks back with a vengeance. "It just came over me. I had no intention to be patronizing."

Josephine looked her in the eyes.

"You called me Rose" whispered she. "Nobody had called me Rose since my marriage with Alexandre de Beauharnais. Nobody in France had ever known that all my youth I was so called. How did you know?"

Jane shrugged.

"I can't say, it felt right to call you thus. Rose was the name you associate with youth, good health and strength. By reminding you of that period of your life where you were without injury, it will help you to focus on getting rid of that scare tissue." Jane looked her opposite in the eyes. "I do understand that what you just heard can be taken as the fantasies of a foolish woman but please don't discard it without pondering it…"

"I won't discard anything" said Josephine in a hushed voice. "I know exactly what I saw and even if Reason has taken hold of my country I'm still a Christian to the soul! And that faith speaks volumes about what you are and foolish isn't a qualifier I'll ever use when thinking of you. You probably don't know but your head was surrounded by a golden glow for the whole time you spoke to Rose. And never have I seen more loving and compassionate eyes in whole my life. Reason spurns religion and laughs at foolish beliefs but for me it is quite sure that what I saw was very real and had a shattering effect on everything I believed in 'till now. I know it was no mind play or hallucination and knowing that I'll exactly do as you advise."

Jane couldn't help but laugh out loud at her friend's tone and expression.

"Be careful! One could suspect you of believing me much better than I am."

Josephine just shook her head.

"You are what you are and I won't try and qualify you. Were you not Geoffrey d'Arcy's wife, meaning one of the most powerful and richest women of France, I would have doubted your words to suspect fraud in order to get into my good graces. But you are probably the only woman in Europe who doesn't need to get into my good graces! So there is no reasonable explanation of what just happened. But there is a spiritual one and it confirms everything you told me about the way you discarded fear out of your life." She let out a happy laugh that spoke volumes about the new relief she was feeling. "I won't speak of Sainthood because of things I know," her eyes wandered to Maureen, "about you, but I will stay convinced that you are the most spiritual creature I ever had the chance to encounter." She stood and embraced Jane. "And I will insist that my next child will have you as his or her Godmother!"


	66. Travel Preparations

Chapter sixty-six: Paris Travel Preparations

* * *

Paris, Saturday the 27th of October

* * *

"Where do we go?" asked Lizzie while shutting the last trunk.

"We go to London, where else?" grumbled Darcy. "It's where even the future of Wales will be decided. No choice there!"

Elizabeth smiled at her husband and finally went to him to embrace him.

"I'm very proud of you, Fitzwilliam Darcy" whispered she. "I was such an idiot not to see what a fantastic human being was willing to take this stubborn and ill behaving little country girl as his wife. God bless d'Arcy and his invasion."

"I would have asked you even without his invasion, I'm sure of it" countered Darcy. "I knew that without you my life would have been empty and senseless. I would have fought my feelings for a few months and then I would have asked your father for your hand and you for forgiveness!"

"Not sure I would have granted it" teased she. "You did insult me quite badly by calling me plain…"

He smiled at their favorite little quarrel. They both loved to remember how silly and foolish they had been not so long ago. And now they had difficulties to imagine a life without the other at their side.

"It will take my whole life to make amend, I know…" said he with a smile.

"And I'll do my best to life a long and prosperous life with lots of plain daughters and aloof sons!"

"I very much hope so, dearest Elizabeth. I very much hope so!"

* * *

"Just go on inhaling quietly" said d'Arcy to Jane and Maureen who were sitting in front of him on the heavy dojo mat of his house's attic. "Don't think about the coming journey, just stay focused on the heat point you feel in front of your heart. Let this point be the only thing that lingers in your mind." He stopped speaking and let his mind expand his awareness. He could feel both women even with his eyes closed. The energy they were radiating was very different from one another but they were becoming more and more similar. Or to be true Maureen was losing the harsh red component of anger which had defined her for so long and was, finally, accepting to let her inner peace invade the wholeness of her body. She wasn't yet able to be the pool of peace and satisfaction Jane was able to incarnate but she was much quieter than even a month in the past. And he could feel that he was following suit. His own anger was abating and he could even think of his youth –and his father- without losing his self-control.

He followed his own instructions and let his perception take possession of his heart. As usual Jane was a mirror of perfect smoothness. There was a vortex of 'savage' energy at her womb's level but that was OK and just a sign of her pregnancy… He let himself drown into the sight of the two little vortices that signaled the presence of his future heirs. Savage was the right word to describe them. Had they sought out a mother like Jane to have a better chance to smooth out of their craving for terrestrial action? It wouldn't have amazed him.

His perception went to Maureen. Now that was another sight. Where Jane was perfectly calm and organized within a very narrow range of golden and violet colors, Maureen was a kaleidoscope of savages currents, different colors and compressed energies. The only very steady vortex he could perceive was situated at her womb's level…

D'Arcy stopped there and he would have been ejected of his trance had he not have had the experience to force himself to stay calm and focused. He let a part of his mind deal with the fact that he had, once more forgetting that he had everything in his pharmacopeia to avoid just that sort of accidents, planted his child in Maureen's womb.

The rest of his mind, still focused on his observations, was calmer and steadier. Visibly the child Maureen was growing inside her was as calm and focused as Jane and would probably be a welcomed anchorage for his mother's energies.

He would have to talk to Jane about Maureen's new status. It wouldn't show for quite a long time but it would have consequences on Maureen's tasks. He would have to find other bodyguards. And he would have to convince Maureen that she needed to have some too. He felt that it wouldn't be an easy task.

He stopped his current thoughts: he had to finish the present operation. It was important for his wife's and Maureen's future well-being.

"Now try and feel me. You know where I am thanks to my voice, focus on me and stay focused even while I'm moving… Put your open right hand before you and feel my energy. Follow my move with your hand and when I'm done moving, stop your hand movement…"

He stayed silent and let them concentrate for a few minutes.

Then he silently stood up, opened his eyes and moved slowly and silently around them. He looked at them and was very satisfied to see their hands turn, following his move. They weren't aware that he was preparing them for what he had in store in the next weeks.

He forced himself to focus and went back to his former place.

Jane followed immediately while Maureen hesitated. Clearly she had sensed his move but wasn't sure where he went the second time. He saw her hand turn to finally stop palm open in his direction.

"Fine, my Ladies, you've done very well and as you know: distance doesn't play a role in this kind of perception. I could have been in Ireland you still could have been able to 'feel' the direction where you could find me. Once we are back in London I urge you to do it at least once a day just for the fun using a stick to mark the direction you feel me, in order to compare both your perceptions. You'll see that you'll soon be very accurate. Now, let's slip out of this meditation trance. As I have taught you, do it at your rhythm and be very careful to build up all your protections before coming back to consciousness. As always, we are in no hurry since our departure is only scheduled in two hours... Plenty of time to do what has to be done!"

* * *

"Stop fretting, we still have two hours before our departure," said Lydia while speaking to Georgiana. "They have plenty of time to come to say good bye."

"I wasn't fretting and I wasn't thinking about anybody…"

"Of course not" smiled Lydia while looking at her friend's behavior. She was, for at least the tenth time, smoothing her dress before the mirror of her room. "Neither was I!"

She couldn't help but laugh. At herself and at her friend who, very soon shot an angry glance in her direction.

"I wasn't alluding at you, Georgie. In fact I was laughing at me. He said it from the beginning that he was in love with another woman and I let myself be snared by this princeling's charm."

"You said that you aren't in love" said Georgiana with a worried look.

"I'm not –so I hope- but I fancied myself to be able to get his attention and perhaps even a bit more."

"And you didn't…"

"Clearly not, a man doesn't react in such a manner when he gets a letter from a distant cousin. No, he's clearly in love with that cousin of his and even if I'm not in love I'm rather disappointed not having been able to get him to like me…"

"But he likes you, I'm sure of it!"

"So am I but in the present circumstances it's more a curse than a blessing." She sighed. "Well nothing to be done about it. At least you've found somebody you like out of this adventure."

Georgiana opened her mouth to protest but seeing Lydia's frown she shut up.

Indeed there was perhaps a small part of truth in what Lydia was saying. A very small part, of course!

Who would have believed that in the Czar's retinue an English Viscount would hide? But there he was and he had been more than attentive to a certain Georgiana Darcy's well being the day before.

Georgiana hadn't, of course, spoken to Fitzwilliam about the Viscount. She would have spoken to Elizabeth had she been available when she and Lydia had been brought back to the d'Arcy House by the Prince and his numerous followers. But since Lizzie hadn't been she had been forced to wait till this morning. And this morning it would be even easier to breach the subject if a certain gentleman had the good idea to keep the promise he's made last night.

Indeed Georgiana would take great pleasure to introduce one Thomas Howard, Viscount Andover to her brother and his wife. She was still not sure if she would say that said Viscount had stayed later than the others and that he visibly hadn't stayed because of Lydia or because the exquisite gardens of d'Arcy's House.

She decided that she wouldn't. Geoffrey d'Arcy was probably already informed and if he didn't feel it necessary to breach the subject with Fitzwilliam, Georgiana was very ready to agree with his choice.

And suddenly one of d'Arcy's Irish butlers was at their door announcing the Prince of Prussia and his friend the Viscount Andover.

Georgiana would have run to the door had not Lydia grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"Let them wait a few minutes, dear! It's never a good idea to show them that they have been able to get our attention. You've been obvious enough this night; so let them not be too sure about our feelings." She winked at her friend. "And, with luck, they'll be greeted by someone else who will be able to remind them what powerful and high born family we belong to!"

* * *

And indeed it was d'Arcy himself who was at the door greeting the young Wilhelm and his friend Thomas Howard. He greeted them while wearing one of his exotic Chinese outfits.

"I'm just coming back from training, gentlemen, so please be indulgent with my look."

"We are honored to be greeted by the famous Geoffrey d'Arcy himself," said Wilhelm being his normal glamorous self. "We wouldn't have disturbed you since we are here to say goodbye to the two most beautiful maidens your house hosts today…"

D'Arcy let a hint of a frown linger on his face before smiling.

"I heard indeed that you were quite late this night when you showed them home."

"The night was extraordinary" nodded the Prince, "and it was the last Parisian night we would spend in their company, we did our utmost to make that night the longest and the most memorable possible." He smiled at d'Arcy. "And with that score of body guards trailing us there was really no chance that some low-life would happen unto us!"

"I hope they didn't bother you?"

"Of course not" snickered Wilhelm. "They are quite good at being inconspicuous but I have a very long training in spotting men in their trade. It helps to save appearances."

"Well, then I suppose it's time I let you make your good-byes to said maidens" said d'Arcy while bowing. "My House is your House and if you bother to come, some day, to London, be sure to pay me a visit!"

"You're going back to London?" asked the Viscount.

"Departure in more or less an hour" agreed d'Arcy. "We hope to get on my ship around ten o'clock this evening, the tide will be perfect to sail out immediately towards England."

"And what about his Majesty the King? Will he stay in London or go on to Cardiff?" Once more it was the Viscount who had asked the question.

D'Arcy smiled his most urban smile.

"I do know the answer but I don't know if you are one of those who are allowed to be informed. The best way to know would probably be to ask the King, his wife, or, since she probably knows, his sister." He pointed toward the butler. "Michael will show you to the guest sitting room. I suppose Miss Lydia and Miss Georgiana will soon be ready to greet you." He bowed a last time… "Gentlemen!" …and soon disappeared through a door giving into the inner of the house.

The Viscount nodded toward his friend.

"You were right, Willy, a very impressive man. It wouldn't be safe to cross him!"

"It would be utterly dangerous, yes!" snorted Wilhelm. "This is a man you can perhaps have as an opponent, but I advise strongly against having him as an enemy."

* * *

Elizabeth, who had been informed that Lydia and Georgiana had come home quite late and in company of quite a gaggle of young and boisterous men had immediately been informed when the Prince and the Viscount had presented their cards at the front door.

"I'll go, dear" she said to Fitzwilliam. "I fear you won't be very civil to these gentlemen. And I must remind you that what Fitzwilliam Darcy could do to young men swarming around his sister, William the First can definitely not!"

Darcy grumbled.

"I don't see why I couldn't show these titled rakes what I think of them… It would do them a lot of good!"

"No doubt there, dear, but a King has other duties toward his subjects and the worried brother will have to stay hidden for the time being. These gentlemen are both entitled to be treated with respect even if they seem to be interested in one of your sisters! So I'll go, greet them and decide if they are rakes or decent fellows." She smiled at her husband. "Do we agree?"

She got a grumbling acceptance and proceeded while hiding an amused smile. Now that he –they- was suspected of an even higher calling, Georgiana would soon find herself besieged by men of status who would look at her only as a mean to get into the immediate surroundings of the King's family. And if Fitzwilliam had always been a fretting brother he was now a fretting King, which could cause quite a few problems because of the power that came with the title. And Lizzie knew that –in normal circumstances- Fitzwilliam was a very kind man, it wasn't so when he was emotionally upset. And Georgiana's fate because of his late choices was a problem that did upset her husband.

She took a last breath and nodded to the maid to open the door to the sitting room where the two gentlemen were waiting.

"Gentlemen…" said she while making a little head gesture that, Abercronby had been adamant, was way enough to greet even a Prussian Prince.

Both stood up and bowed. The Prince in his glamorously bored manner and the Viscount with all the seriousness a worried young man bound on making a good impression could gather.

"Ma'am" said the Prince with a winked smile.

"Your Highness" tried the Viscount who, like most British Elizabeth had encountered, had great difficulty to decide what the proper way to call her was. 'Your Highness' being the choice of those willing to be civil but not obsequious, 'Your Majesty' being the choice of those trying to wriggle themselves in her good graces.

She accepted the homage with a knowing smile and invited them to sit.

Which they did. The Prince with grace and his usual natural charm, the Viscount with a little too much stiffness in his movement.

"It is said that you spent yesterday until late in the night with two of my sisters" said Elizabeth with a frown. "We hadn't realized when you called yesterday that their little outing would take them so late."

The Viscount shot a worried look to the Prince who just answered with his most glamorous smile.

"They were in the best of hands, I assure you," he said. "Not counting the little army your brother in law put at our tail! Not even my cousin's Cossacks could have reached them."

Elizabeth answered with a smile of her own.

"It isn't your cousin's Cossacks that worry my husband but some gentlemen who were already quite near enough to said sisters."

The Prince answered with another of his contagious smiles.

"The best of hands, I said and we were all perfectly gentlemanly in our behavior. We wouldn't want to upset both a King and a Proconsul…" His smile disappeared to give the stage to a serious and frank mien. "We wanted them to have a day like no other in the most glamorous of all towns. So we spent the days visiting places of culture and interest –and a dancing floor- and It was late because we went to the theater and, afterwards, to dine in one of the best inns of Paris. Be assured that your sisters enjoyed every minute of their day. They were at the center of quite a gaggle of flirtatious young men and in the company of a few of the best born daughters of Paris. I have it from my own experience with sisters that it bolsters their pleasure greatly to be at the center of most of the attention."

There was a noise and soon the door to the parlor opened to let Georgiana and Lydia enter the room.

Elizabeth smiled at their sisters and stood up.

"I'm on my way, don't forget we leave within the hour." She looked at both gentlemen and nodded what could be taken as approval. "Thanks to have been my sisters' guides. Hopefully someday they'll be able to render you the same service in London."


	67. Channel Crossing

Chapter sixty-seven: Channel crossing

* * *

High sea, Sunday the 28th of October

* * *

"I don't feel very well" said Jane while trying to contain the content of her stomach where she believed it should stay.

"It's the sea, dear, the weather is not so fine to allow a smooth ride on the waves," said d'Arcy while taking her in his arms.

"It's not only the sea" she answered while gritting her teeth. "It has the symptoms of morning sickness. I was hoping I'd get through the pregnancy without it but it seems my body isn't as adaptable as I hoped." She tried to maintain a stressful smile on her lips. She failed. "I feel that it needs to be pampered…"

D'Arcy embraced her and kissed her.

She interrupted the attempt.

"I fear it won't be a very good idea to kiss me just now, mon amour. I'm not the throwing up sort but I do believe that in these special circumstances it could really happen. And if throwing up in our bed would really bother me, throwing up on you would clearly d…"

She stopped speaking and began to look around her with a harried look on her face.

Three seconds later d'Arcy was holding what looked like a chamber pot under her nose. She didn't hesitate to use it.

And from there on it worsened by the minute.

* * *

"I love rough seas" said Lizzie while standing at the prow of the Dame and letting the sea spray sodden her coat. "It reminds me of those stormy days when I climbed the trees to see how they were rocking under a heavy wind."

Fitzwilliam who wasn't quite so enthusiastic about the sea –or trees under stormy weather- and the present storm couldn't help but send a prayer to God to have been at his wife's side when she was doing her foolish experiments with trees and thunderstorms.

"We should go down; you'll catch a cold here! Soon your cloak will be soaked."

"No chance that I catch a cold," laughed Lizzie. "I'm the barbarian of the family! Nothing gets to me that comes out of nature. My skin won't be soaked and the cloths I can change. It's so lively here, I feel myself so much more alive!"

"The sea is a dangerous medium in itself" insisted Darcy who was holding her at the waist with his left arm and gripping not nonchalantly at all a rigging with his right hand. "And when it comes with wind and heavy clouds, it's not a place to be outside a shelter. Please, I beg you to listen to reason. Don't forget you're no longer alone and your own survival is the sine qua non condition to the survival of our children."

She frowned and was tempted to rebuke him but, in the end, she took hold of herself. He was right. He had reasons to be afraid. In October the sea water was already cold and she wouldn't survive long enough for the ship to come back if she fell overboard.

She nodded.

"Let's go down" she agreed. "You're right, I'm wet and I need to change. And what is more I heard that Jane is as sick as it comes and she's probably in need of my help."

Fitzwilliam didn't hide his relief.

* * *

Maureen had never liked see trips. She wasn't sick, normally, but she was always worried. D'Arcy had taught her how to swim but she knew quite well that swimming was a river or stream occupation. You don't cross a sea swimming. Not even in high summer when the water is bearably warm. In October it was clearly a death trap and even if d'Arcy was sure that the Dame was the most seaworthy ship on earth, feeling her rock and slide and roll gave her the shudders.

And now she was really worried for Jane.

Because Jane was green in the face and heaving and trembling and sweating profusely.

"I'm worried for her!" The words had finally come out and Lizzie couldn't help but smile at the young woman who was playing such a particular role in her sister's life.

"She's just sick, Maureen, it won't become more serious that it is already. What she needs is ground under her feet and a few hours' sleep. Things she'll get as soon as we arrive in London. But till then with that sea and this storm she'll just have to endure."

"I don't like to see her so" insisted Maureen. "I count on her so much to remain steady. She's the only anchorage in sanity I ever got. I can't lose her."

"She's not dying, she's just sick" countered an exasperated Lizzie. "I believe the combination rough sea and pregnancy doesn't fit with her as it does with me." She shook her head and took hold of Maureen's hand. "She going to be all right, believe me! She just needs to get out of here."

As if called d'Arcy came back.

"We will arrive at England's coast in less than three hours. Thanks to the gale and our sailors' skills we do make excellent speed –much faster than I expected- but it won't be possible to go any faster." He shed his cape and boots and climbed into the bed next to Jane who soon cradled in his arms with a smile.

"Sorry to be such a burden" whispered she while shuddering. "I d…"

He hushed her with a kiss.

"Just rest, mon amour, just rest. I'll stay with you till we arrive. It won't be very long now, you'll see. Close your eyes and try to go back to sleep."

Jane did as she was told and soon relaxed in her husband's loving arms.

* * *

"Don't laugh at me" said Duroc while throwing up for the tenth time. "I'm army not navy. The sea's not my friend."

"I'm not laughing at you" answered Mary while mopping her fiancé's brow. "I'm laughing at the universe who gives me the chance to see the man I love at his weakest without having him run any real risk. I was wondering if you had any flaws. You were always so perfect!"

He tried a snicker.

"I did my best to impress you, dear. Glad it worked till now."

"You tried to impress me? I was sure you weren't even considering me as a prospect."

"You were wrong then! I was refusing to contemplate marriage that doesn't mean I didn't want to impress you. I wanted you to stay with us as long as possible. Emilie would have been very sad to lose your friendship." He tried to wink at her but soon was forced to concentrate on aiming.

"There was never a chance that she would lose my friendship. I love her for what she is not because she's your daughter."

He grabbed her hand and smiled.

"Our daughter…"

She nodded.

"Our daughter! And a fine daughter she is." She looked at her left where Emilie was sleeping with a smile on her lips. "Is anything able to wake her once she's asleep?"

"Not much" said Duroc. "You can shake her till she's awake but then you'll have a very grumpy little person on your back for the rest of the day. She's a sound sleeper and when I asked her servant she said that she always was." He smiled at the sleeping and smiling girl. "I'm a very happy father."

"And she's a very happy daughter" said Mary. "And I have no doubt that I'll be a very happy wife!"

* * *

"Concentration, Georgie, everything is about concentration. Focus on the game, dear, and don't even think about the waves or the wind. I'm quite sure nothing will happen to us. It's just a little bit of rough sea. Even pirates don't go out when there's as much wind… We are totally safe."

Georgiana sighed and looked back at the Chess game Lydia was playing just in order to entertain her.

Because Lydia went to bed immediately when aboard and had slept until the first roller coaster had awoken her friend with a scare. And now she was awake only because she had felt that Georgiana's fear wouldn't abate easily.

"I don't have to think about them, I hear and feel them way too easily."

Lydia who was physically very similar to Jane hadn't been blessed –or cursed it depended on what she was seeking- with her eldest sister's character was much more in tune with Lizzie. The only difference being that Lydia preferred urban surroundings to nature. But like her second eldest sister she was quite amazed to see that most people were spending most of their time afraid. Or shy which, in her opinion, was only a seemlier word to describe exactly the same thing.

"Well then you hear also that between them and us there is a very sturdy built ship that shields us. Look at the bright side: we are sheltered" she smiled at Georgiana "we are in the best female company available and we are soon to be home…"

Georgiana tried to smile but she couldn't help and listen to all the noise the sea was generating aboard the Dame.

"Well" said she finally. "Thanks to be with me. Alone I would…"

"You would have done very well, I'm sure of it. You're a Darcy and for what I have seen fear is not a Darcy thing!" She pointed toward the Chessboard. "It's your turn and if you don't pay attention I'll pound you into the ground d'Arcy fashion within four moves!"


	68. London Welcome

Chapter sixty-eight: London Welcome

* * *

London, Sunday the 28th of October

* * *

The docks of London were swarming with people. Nobody had the least idea how the news had spread but the fact was there: thousands and thousands of people had gathered under the pale October sun that had followed two days of storm.

And then there was a loud tremor born somewhere in the South East which announced the occurrence of a long awaited but –judging by the cheers- pleasant event.

And, a few minutes later, there she was, familiar because of her Latin riggings. Slowly and with a common grace for ships mooring at a dock under the expert skill of a master captain the 'Dame de Coeur' came along the dock.

There, recognizable in his scarlet uniform coat stood Lebrun in front of half a dozen of carriages and quite a few gendarmes who tried and maintained the mass of people at some distance from where the little convoy was waiting.

Jane who was much better since the Dame had begun to travel on the Thames River looked at the crowd with a frown.

"How is it possible that so many people could gather in so little time? We are hours too early for our normal schedule."

D'Arcy didn't answer but his little smile spoke volumes about who was behind that part of the organization.

"They are awaiting His Majesty the King" he whispered into her ear. "They know they are soon to be free English Citizens and they are here to pay tribute to the man who made everything possible." He bent a little more toward to his wife."And I'm sure they are also here to great the woman who nagged her husband till he accepted to take his troops away and grant them their freedom back."

"I didn't nag" she protested.

"I know it but there are rumors about your skills in certain matters" whispered d'Arcy with a smile. "And they probably rather accurately figured out what you have done to twist me into your little schemes…"

She frowned at him.

"You show me as a manipulator?"

"I show you as the wife I love and respect!" His smile didn't increase but the lines and wrinkles around his eyes showed the extent of his satisfaction. "All husbands out there know exactly what you've done and so do their wives. In appearance they'll cheer William the First, but in fact they're here to pay homage to the most beautiful and efficient champion of England's freedom who ever graced the earth with her smile."

"You'll pay for that, you know!"

"I very much hope so, dear and beloved wife. Those last few hours were rather frustrating for me, having to hold you against my heart and you too sick to even acknowledge my husbandly presence… I very much hope so."

She couldn't help but laugh happily. He was the shrewdest manipulator she knew and he had, once more, manipulated her and the rest of the world to get exactly what he wanted, but she couldn't really be angry at him. Not when he was so charmingly proud of her.

And showing it!

* * *

Of course the King and his Consort had been the first to land. Under a deafening cheer of very happy people. The cheers didn't abate, on the contrary, when d'Arcy lifted his wife in his arms to carry her over the planks to the pier.

She didn't protest and when she was again on her feet she thanked him with a speedy but loving kiss.

Of course that had exactly the effect d'Arcy had foreseen and it took them quite a while to steer through the throngs of enthusiastic people.

* * *

"How do you want to dispatch the party?" asked Lebrun when they were at his side. "I don't know what would be best. I have enough carriages to permit each couple to go unattended but they are big enough to hold six people." He smiled at Fitzwilliam. "I know what protocol would ask from me in France, but here we are on your turf your Majesty, it's your decision!"

Fitzwilliam looked at his wife.

"What do we do?"

"We take Jane and Geoffrey with us in one carriage, what else? As a consort I would find it hard to cope with my sister being cheered louder than I!" She looked at d'Arcy. "We won't begrudge you your little scheme, brother, but we will use it without hesitation to further our own cause!"

D'Arcy bowed toward his sister in law.

"I would have been disappointed, dear sister, if you hadn't!"

Darcy shot him an angry look, took his wife's arm and walked toward the golden carriage that was, evidently, waiting for them.

D'arcy offered his arm to his wife.

"Shall we? The crowd is awaiting her heroine."

Within seconds the rest of the party was distributed between the remaining carriages and the little convoy could set off.

And soon they were slowly crawling toward the Palace.

* * *

"Lebrun said they are waiting at the Palace. Mrs. Gardiner was rather worried about letting the children alone at home so they decided to wait at the Palace till we arrive" said d'Arcy while smiling and waving at the crowd. "And since at this speed it will probably take us till next Thursday, they made the clever choice!"

"These people are happy, you can't begrudge it to them" scolded Lizzie. "Look at their faces, one could transform the world with all this happiness."

"We will change the world" answered d'Arcy. "We will build a better world by setting the best example possible." He pointed at the crowd with his chin. "These people have already seen what can happen when reasonable and honest people, like your Uncle Gardiner, are at the wheel. They know now that it is possible for the rich and powerful to share and to show mercy for all those who have not been lucky at the drawing of life lots. I really hope the constituent Assembly will be able to build a regime which is based on justice and understanding and not on power and thieving."

Darcy snorted.

"You are not the best example of honesty, brother. You spend your time manipulating innocent people and remember the gold you stole…"

"I stole nothing; it was abandoned on the sea ground when I found and salvaged it! And as for my so called manipulations, you see it all in a false light. Most of people spend their life hesitating and wondering if they are worth or capable to do what they are offered. I just work things out in order to reduce the hesitation time. It's only a question of efficiency. Hadn't I pushed to force you to take the Welsh Throne you would still hesitate and England would be under my yoke for the next century!"

Lizzie got hold of her husband and forced him to stay put.

"Go on smiling and waving" hissed she. "Don't you dare let him push you into losing your temper in public!" She shot a warning glance at her sister. "We are here to show that we are a happy family and that we are worth these people's trust!" She looked at her husband who, while smiling and waving, made great efforts to regain his steadiness. "And please recognize that we really are a happy family. Just stop believing that we will ever get monsieur d'Arcy to stop meddling in other people's affairs!" Her eyes went back to her brother in law. "Let's just be happy that he is really involved in bettering our lot even if we resent his constant meddling with our lives."

Geoffrey opened his mouth to answer when a sharp pinch from his wife stopped him in his track. He sighed but took the advice. He'd bask in his success in silence, that's all!

* * *

"Congratulations" said the sisters when they were embracing each other.

"Will we organize a second double wedding?" asked Kitty mischievously to Mary. "It seems it could become a Bennet family tradition. Not the worst tradition at all!"

"Indeed" answered Mary with sparkling eyes. "We should perhaps think about it. But if we do it I'd like to be married in Meryton. Our dear neighbors couldn't get the first double marriage; it would be sheer justice to grant them the second. And I must say that I would love to be at home one last time before becoming Géraud's wife. I do believe I need that seizure with my former life…"

Kitty embraced her sister.

"I beg you to forgive for everything the foolish kid I was said to her older sister. I know I was unjust but, at the time, I was so full of myself, I just couldn't imagine that my words could hurt so badly."

"You're of course forgiven but only if you forgive me for having been a boring, lecturing and not very good piano playing sister…"

They laughed and embraced once more!

* * *

"I'm Ma Biorna" said the white haired and lithe old stranger who was there at Charles' side. She pointed at said Charles with her thumb. "I'm his Grandmother and I'm here to take care of my Grandchildren's lack of better education!"

Jane was, of course, immediately at the old woman's side to embrace her.

"What marvelous news, Charles, you have found what's left of your family…"

Ma let herself be embraced and finally took hold of Jane and looked her in the eyes while holding her by the shoulders.

"So you are the famous Jane my Grandson was foolish enough to let wither away while hesitating himself to oblivion!"

Jane just nodded and smiled.

"Well, I already guessed that my son's children had not all their mind but in this case I must say that foolish is by no means the adequate word…" She looked at Charles and uttered a few Irish words which made Maureen laugh aloud. Ma turned and immediately began to speak with Maureen who made no secret to the pleasure she felt while speaking her mother-tongue.

After a few sentences Ma came back to Jane.

"Sorry for this lack of education but it felt so good to be able to use a civilized language for once." She searched the little crowd and her eyes lingering over Geoffrey who was speaking with Lebrun but had placed himself in order to always be able to see his wife.

"I suppose the good looking and brawny man-in-his-forties who always keeps an eye on you is your famous husband?"

Jane answered with a smile.

"That should be him, indeed. He's quite possessive when we are at gatherings. As if I could vanish in thin air!"

Ma snorted.

"Was I him and were you my wife, I would not only watch you but I wouldn't let go of your arm, just to be sure." Her eyes went over Jane's shoulders to look at Maureen. "She's looking at you just like him," said Ma finally. "Strange look for a bodyguard…"

She saw probably Jane and Maureen blush but chose not to notice.

"I'll call on you these next days" said Ma just before turning around. "Have a pleasant day, Ladies."

And a second later she was striding energetically toward her Grandson who was speaking with his fiancée and Mary.

* * *

"I have a list" said Lebrun. "I'll show it to you as soon as you want. You'll see I've taken your advice into account and quite a lot of the members –let's call them the 'constituents'– are women. But most are men, I just couldn't convince more to step in the limelight."

"It's a first step" agreed d'Arcy. "We just need to shift the boundaries, no need to transform everything immediately. With my dear aunt as a member, I'm quite sure that the point of view of the females will be sufficiently promoted. Not sure we'll get total equality but we should be able to get a few advances, there."

"I'm not sure Napoleon will be very satisfied with our little experience here. Our women will soon be aware of what is happening here and they will ask for the same."

"No doubt about that but I'm not sure all those men in their lofty positions will have the inner probity to follow us on our path. Here too they would stop everything if they could but since it's us who are having the shot they'll just have to cope with their new reality. They'll try and get rid of the women but I doubt very much those who came out of the shadow to accept a public role will let the men push them out of business. As I see it England is going to be the greatest experiment in social and economic prospective since Jesus' teaching was transformed by the Catholic Church into a politic manifest to uphold the power of the Mighty." He smiled at the Consul. "I'm very sure that with your new fiscal and economic systems everything will grow into a stable society within a few years."

Lebrun nodded.

"We'll see it from the outside but it will be the most satisfying experience of my life. I just hope we'll get the opportunity to test it also in France."

D'Arcy made a face.

"Consider the fiscal reform as already adopted. No Nation will renounce to such an income increase. And if our dear entrepreneurs want to stay at the top of the food chain, the French economy will have no choice but to adapt. And to adapt speedily!" He smiled his most shark like smile while looking at Edward Gardiner. "Because I know a company who's already ready to move into France and install modern steam-driven factories wherever and whenever possible. The Ball is rolling I very much doubt it still can be stopped."

"It won't" said Edward Gardiner. "I'm literally overrun by spies who try and steal my trade secrets. No doubt the first mergers between medium companies are already being negotiated. It is only a question of time before they swing into the sort of economy we are developing here. What I fear is their treatment of their workers. You don't need to treat them well to get the vast majority of improvements our new steam technology provides. It could happen that they are badly exploited in those new factories. And it will give our competitor an advantage that could be important."

"We'll find other ways to increase our efficiency" said d'Arcy. "I'm quite sure good paid and happy workers will be more able and provide us with a better productivity. And since we will be in possession of all the stages from coal and iron mining till delivering the products all over the world we will easily compensate the higher manpower costs." He smiled at Lebrun. "And let's not forget that even if we are outnumbered by all those greedy bastards we are still in charge at the highest level and we could have a say on new, more protective laws for the French workers! Since we, here in England have taken measures to protect our workers, it could be an argument to force laws to protect French workers. Who knows, we are perhaps too pessimistic!"

Edward Gardiner couldn't help but smile.

D'Arcy had said 'we' while speaking about the English people just before speaking about his position in the French government. Cleary his mind was swinging and he had already difficulties to admit it. But the pronoun had been spoken spontaneously while the sentence about the French law had been prepared.

Or, as wouldn't surprise Edward Gardiner, everything was well prepared in order to transmit a message to his listeners. All listeners or only Lebrun? Time only would tell.

One thing was sure: in the next months life wouldn't be easy for those around the d'Arcys.

* * *

"Really, if I could I would give up in the next hour and go home to Pemberley to let my life turn around my family and my tenants" said Darcy to the Honorable Duchess Lady Anna Maria of Newcastle present Chair(wo)man of the Parliament.

"And you can not?" asked the Duchess.

"Not yet" answered Darcy. "Everybody reminds me hourly that it is my duty to stay until the Constituents have decided what to do with our new freedom."

"And duty is important for you?"

Darcy frowned and felt himself torn between amazement and anger but soon he remembered that he was speaking to a Lady. He nodded at her.

"Of course, it is, Your Grace! Duty is the most important thing in any gentleman's life. We, as members of the Aristocracy, have even more duties than normal people. I wouldn't consider myself worth of the people's trust if I could consider any duty as unimportant!"

The Duchess must have felt that he was at the brink of anger because she made a calming gesture.

"I didn't induce that duty was unimportant, your Majesty. I was just curious about what you thought It is not every day that a new King is chosen in Great Britain. I wanted to have a better idea about the man behind the title."

Darcy nodded and let a small smile adorn his lips.

"Sorry, my Lady if I seem impolite but I'm not yet accustomed to my new status and I'm even less accustomed to the status everyone wants to saddle me with."

"You mean the next Royal step I suppose?" asked the Duchess with an ironic smile.

"Please, my Lady, don't add anything. I know quite well that my brother in law manipulated half of Wales to get me on the Welsh Throne and I fear that, just now, he is manipulating half of the British Isles to do the same in England!"

"And you are not interested?"

"I wasn't and I'm not!" said Darcy forcefully. "But I'll do what's necessary to please the people of Wales who bestowed upon me the great honor to rule over them. And if what comes out of the work of the constituents is, in my opinion, less that what Wales already has, I'll return to Cardiff to expose my reasons to them and if they agree with me, I'll just go on and rule over my little part of Great Britain."

"And if they disagree?"

"I'll ask them if they want me to stay, and if that's the case I'll do what they wish."

The duchess made a face and nodded.

"Interesting point of view, I'm glad I had the opportunity to speak to you face to face. I hope we'll have you for a few days in London?"

Darcy shrugged.

"As I see it, for the time being, Wales' future will be decided here in London. I personally would prefer to go to Cardiff but, in truth, it would be a bad move. I'm their King and if my judgment is correct the fate of Britain and of the British Empire will soon be on the negotiation table and it is my duty to be where Wales' fate is at stake! So, to answer your question, I'm probably stuck here for quite a few weeks."

The Duchess smiled at him and curtsied.

"Then I hope I'll have the honor to see you and your wife at my house one of these days."

Darcy bowed to acknowledge the lady's status and the gracious invitation.

"It will be my pleasure and I'm sure my wife will be very happy to have the opportunity to visit your house."

The Duchess smiled, turned around and soon disappeared behind another gaggle of Lebrun's guests.


	69. Household

Chapter sixty-nine: London Household

* * *

London, Monday the 29th of October

* * *

She awoke and, for once, his place at her side was already cold.

She frowned and looked up. Maureen was, like herself, still in bed and soundly sleeping.

Yesterday, with the trip over from France, the sea sickness and the parties to greet them had been a difficult day and, around midnight, she has literally collapsed into sleep. She didn't even remember having changed to go to bed.

But changed she had.

She sighed and yawned before forcing herself to stand up to her morning trip to the bathroom. Bathroom which had been, while they were in France, adapted to include what Geoffrey called an 'ease cabinet'. And, since she had been using just that same luxury onboard the Dame and in d'Arcy's Parisian House, it was quite pleasant to be able to use such an 'ease seat' even here at Darcy's Town House.

A few minutes later, while she was still pondering what she was going to do, Maureen's knock on the door gave her the beginning of an answer.

With Maureen up she would be able to call a maid to prepare a bath.

Neither she, nor Maureen had any hope that their little arrangement was still a secret within the household but appearances must be preserved and it would have been unseemly to have Maureen been seen sleeping in their bed. Her 'official' bed was hidden in a little alcove of the master bedroom and Maureen never forgot to open it and use it a few minutes before joining them.

It was bothersome but only a little inconvenience in regard with all the real advantages their arrangement provided.

"Better?" asked Maureen while slipping into the cabinet.

"I was exhausted" said Jane. "I don't even remember changing before going to bed."

"That's probably because you didn't" laughed Maureen. "You literally fell over on the way to your room. D'Arcy just caught you or you would have hurt yourself. We undressed you and put you in bed while you were soundly sleeping. Judging by your smile you were quite satisfied with us and yourself."

"Well, being with Geoffrey and you is always a pleasure why shouldn't I smile while feeling you at my side?"

Maureen came out of the cabinet and embraced her.

"You're too much and I thank you for everything you give me. Friendship is a luxury I wouldn't have believed possible for me and the rest, I…" she hesitated but Jane knew quite well what she was speaking of…

"Don't bother yourself with it. I'm discovering that providing joy and happiness is as pleasing as other more… physical endeavors. Not on the same level of satisfaction but in a certain sense even better. I'm not starved of his attentions because of you and I'm rejoicing to see those little happy sparkles in your eyes."

"What he gives to me, I'm sure he would give to you! You're falling short in the bargain."

"I'm aware of the heavy sacrifices I go through to give you a chance to be happy" teased Jane. "But, really, even if I will agree that I love it when my husband makes love to me more than twice –which is nevertheless what I get most nights– I'm over the craving part of it. And, as said, knowing that it makes you both happy is a most satisfactory feeling."

Maureen nodded and made that little gesture with her lips that said that she would have liked to speak about something which bothered her.

And wouldn't speak of because of her past and present feelings.

"Speak about it, Maureen, please!" said Jane finally. "I know there's something that nags at you. I'm your friend; I'm here to help if help is needed."

Maureen's hand went to her belly confirming Kane's suspicions.

"I do fear I'm pregnant" said she finally.

"Don't fear it, and yes you're pregnant, I saw your little one a few days ago." She smiled at Maureen and made a droll face. "We can't complain having a non-efficient male. We'll have to look at some of my best remedies to be able to do other things than giving birth to his sons and daughters."

"I can't be pregnant, Jane, it would…"

Jane stopped her with a forceful gesture.

"It will be a blessing for all of us. Nobody within our Household will have a doubt about the father and your little one will have its place within the d'Arcy nursery. Loving a man is a marvelous thing but it brings some inconveniences in its wake. Falling pregnant being the most marvelous of them. So, don't fret about it, we'll cross that bridge when it is necessary, no need to bother you with it for the next months. I'm sure Geoffrey has his choice of other excellent bodyguards to provide for my security." She stopped and made a face. "More so: to provide for our security!" She took Maureen's hand and shook her head. "We must look the truth in the eyes, dear, and accept that your job has become a cover for your real status in this household. A convenient cover which gives you access easily to the master bedroom but a cover nevertheless and a cover which will blow the day your pregnancy will show…"

"I should…" began Maureen immediately interrupted by Jane.

"What you should is stay calm and concentrate on being a happy and attentive mother. Our little ones need us in the best available shape! So no guilt and no fears, just the happy feeling of being a loved woman whose natural and physical goal is being fulfilled."

Her smile became more ironic.

"And to be sure that, next time, such a happy event, only happens when we want it, I'm first thing this afternoon, going on a little herbal shopping trip. Being pregnant is a wonderful feeling, I can't agree more, but not being pregnant is a much more efficient way to spend a life. So we'll have both but at our conditions!"

She pointed toward the outside of their apartment.

"And to be sure, I'll ask Geoffrey to provide us with the potion his Chinese concubines used to prevent them from being pregnant. He was with them for ten years and he never begot a child with them. Knowing how busy he can be in bed, it shows an effectiveness my little potions don't have!"

* * *

"It's not Pemberley, dear, but it is home!"

Fitzwilliam nodded and smiled at his wife.

"Indeed it is and even if I'm brooding, I'm very happy to be here, and even happier to be here with you at my side…" He shot a glance toward the door of the bathroom. "But I'm not so sure I can affirm that it still is my townhouse." He frowned. "I never gave my authorization to have my bathroom changed and reorganized…"

Lizzie shook her head.

"I concur but you must admit that it is a real and welcome improvement. Hot running water and that marvelous ease cabinet…"

He nodded.

"I do and had he asked I would have agreed…"

"I do believe that it is the sort of things he believes to be normal. It has improved the house, hasn't it?" He nodded. "So, for him, it had to be done." She winked at him. "And look at the bright side: it didn't cost us or the Welsh Crown a penny… No reason to complain."

He smiled looked her in the eyes and kissed her.

"What would I become without you, love?"

She kissed him back forced him to stand up, pulled him toward the mirror and pointed at his creased brow.

"Well, having won that little satisfactory compliment, I just have to ask you, husband, to stop brooding! Brooding is one of the things you do with utmost energy and it really transforms you, if I remember well your little brooding trips at Netherfield, in a man I have no desire to be wedded to!" She tapped his chest with her finger. "And now that I know what a marvelous man is hidden under that brooding prig, I summon him out of his hiding to come and kiss his beloved wife!"

She got her kiss but the brooding was still there afterwards.

"Fitzwilliam, go look at yourself, one could really believe you're going to lose one of your beloved ones."

"I'm about to lose my freedom…"he whispered. "I wanted nothing from life but a woman I could love like my dad had loved my mum and now that I have found her, fate spends its time waving new schemes to rob me of my time with her!"

Lizzie shook her head and embraced her preferred Darcy.

"With fate, you probably mean our dear older brother in law?"

Fitzwilliam didn't answer but grumbled something unintelligible.

"I could ask Jane to have him stop it…"

"It's too late" exploded Darcy. "He just put everything in motion and now half the world does the job for him and he has just to sit back and assist, a satisfactory smile on his lips, to the drama enfolding."

Lizzie was immediately at his side.

"You really feel it so badly? It is not a drama, love. Not with you as an actor!" She took him into her arms and placed herself in order to be able to whisper in his ear. "I never said it because I know it will upset you but I agree with Geoffrey! Not with his schemes and manipulations but with his choice! You are the best for the job. You're even better than him because you're even without me a decent loving and trustworthy human being. He's a beast tamed and kept on a leash by my dear sister who was just too naïve to understand that the task she accepted was impossible. That she did succeed changes nothing at the deep and dangerous nature of her husband. And it changes nothing at the kind and loving nature of mine! So yes he was right, England needs a kind, loving and capable King and I'm holding that man in my arms and I'm bursting with pride and I urge you to forget your prejudices about yourself and to accept the truth of your calling. I won't cry if you don't become King and I'll be at your side and happy even if you go back to being a very efficient gentleman farmer in Derbyshire, but I'll ask you to stop doubting! You really are up to the job and you won't disgrace England in any way."

He finally snickered.

"I'm such a fool, dear. I can't help wondering…"

"No need, love, to wonder on anything. Indeed you wouldn't have been chosen had Geoffrey not manipulated the Welsh to choose you. But they would have bypassed you only because of their prejudices against a non-aristocrat. Geoffrey forced them to come out of their little minds and look at what was available! And they finally asked you because they saw that you were just what they needed. Do you really believe that a man like Abercronby who knows personally half of the British peerage would have asked you if he had been convinced that there is a better choice somewhere else? Even with you being d'Arcy's brother? No, he wanted d'Arcy's brother because he was convinced that d'Arcy's brother was an asset in his own right. You're not their second choice, Fitzwilliam, you're their only choice!"

* * *

"You're not reasonable, dear" said Lydia. "We spent only half a day with him and already you believe that he is the man who's destined to be your husband."

Georgiana smiled at Lydia who could, from one moment to the other, swing from pure foolishness to perfect wisdom.

"I know that it isn't reasonable but I can't help it: I like him and I wouldn't need a lot to push me into believing that I love him."

"Love is an unreasonable emotion" said Kitty who had decided to come to live with her sister and her friend. She was now officially Charles' fiancée and wasn't sad to be able to leave Ma Biorna's little autocratic empire. Charles could escape by going to work, she and the sisters were, while in Charles' house, a little too restricted to her taste. Now that her real sisters were back she had taken advantage of it to move into Fitzwilliam's townhouse where Ma was not –yet- a regular guest. "You can't just forget what you feel! If this Viscount agrees to you the most important thing you have to do is convince his Majesty William the first…"

"Ruler of all Welshitude…" added Lydia with a smile.

"…that he is the man you want! If you fail to get Fitzwilliam's approval you're walking toward difficult days" concluded Kitty.

"I know that quite well" said Georgiana. "But the problem is always the same with Fitzwilliam…"

"Pontifex Maximus…" added Lydia.

"If I even let out a hint that I'm interested in Thomas, he'll try everything to convince me that I'm too young, that he is too old, that he is not really interested in me but in my connections with Him or d'Arcy! And he'll anger me and we'll shout at each other and he'll put me in house arrest and…"

"Alright, we got it" said Kitty. "We must find a way to introduce him without giving him a hint about your feelings. Once he is convinced that your Thomas is an honorable man it will be easier for him to accept a courting."

"How do we proceed?"

Kitty and Lydia shared a long glance.

"The usual or the unusual?" asked Lydia.

"Let's try the unusual, for once," answered Kitty. "We have much better means than in Meryton and I'd like to try some new things!"

"Yes!" shouted Lydia. "Let's go for the unusual! I'm sure d'Arcy will love giving us a hand!"

* * *

"Yes I want to see the house you grew up in," smiled Emilie. "I never had a House I could call my home. I'd really love to have one look at it!"

"You'll have more than a look, dear, you'll have the possibility to sleep in my room while, for once, since I'm now Miss Bennet I'll use Jane's."

"Amusing tradition that," said Emilie. "I wasn't aware that in England only the eldest unmarried daughter could be called Miss Bennet –or whatever else- by strangers…"

"Well it facilitates life since another –not so followed- tradition asks that daughters marry following their age. Eldest first and so on… Normally a suitor had to wait until the elder daughters were married to begin his suit. But that one was foolish and is no longer followed even if the Bennets, contrary to all predictions, had followed suit in that matter and will go on doing it!"

"Well I can understand why one should ask to follow an order. Imagine a second daughter who's much more beautiful than her elder, she will probably be much easier to marry than the first daughter. So there's a risk that the eldest doesn't find a husband…"

Mary made a little gesture to show that she wasn't convinced.

"I believe there's a consort for everyone who wants to marry. Even Charlotte, Lizzie's best friend, who has spent her youth finding herself plain, had finally found a husband. Is it a matter of luck, of fate? I really don't know, dear. I was till three months ago certain that no man on earth would ever look at me. And no man looked at me because I gave them every reason to look at my sisters and not at me. But then I met you and the love I felt for you gave me the sort of beauty your father was looking for. It's marvelous but it's not fortuitous. It's just how the world manages itself."

"You believe I'll find a husband?" asked Emilie in a little voice.

"I found one dear and you are much prettier than I let myself ever been. We'll ask Jane about all her secrets to be so beautiful and you'll have to ward off suitors with a stick most of your life!"

"I don't know how I feel about marriage," added Emilie. "I do like what I see between Jane and d'Arcy or Lizzie and Fitzwilliam. But when I look elsewhere there are a lot of sad faces who look back at me. I'm not sure happiness is a common state of marriage."

"It is not" agreed Mary. "But that's because marriage is much heavier socially than just the being together of a man and a woman who want to create a family. There's often money involved and in my experience, money is a shallow reason to build a relationship."

Emile closed her eyes to concentrate.

It was one of her little mannerisms that had given Mary the desire to befriend her.

"Money is a very peculiar medium. It has so many different meanings that I doubt most people even try and understand the whole scope of its power…" She sighed and looked seriously at Mary. "Look your family had none –or at least not enough- and that was probably one of the more important reasons who let you be what you are now!"

Mary nodded while making a face.

"I agree and I disagree, dear. It was probably a good thing that we had not enough money to provide correct dowries to suitors. I'm sure that with five thousand pounds dowry Jane would have been married away five years ago. And life at home would certainly not have been the same because Jane was the cement between all of us. But it was also a bad thing because worry did make my mother's hysterics much worse than they should have been had she had enough money to be reassured." She shook her head. "No in truth it was a good thing that we had not enough money to become vile persons only interested in themselves and in increasing their fortune. We had enough to be free and not enough to be prey. In after sight, it was quite a good combination."

"Is money a bad thing, then?"

"Only if you let it govern your life! Neither your father nor I had a plentiful youth. We know the value of a penny and that is a knowledge I pledge to teach you. Because not having it would destroy a part of you I like very much."

"You're the best teacher I ever had; I don't doubt you'll teach me everything I need."

"I'll try, dear, I'll try."


	70. Encounters of the Irish KInd

Chapter seventy: London Encounters of the Irish Kind

* * *

London, Monday the 29th of October

* * *

They looked at each other for quite a long time.

He with an ironic glint in the eyes and she with what could be considered as an iron resolve.

After a long difficult silence d'Arcy nodded.

"Alright, I'll admit that you are my equal in will power! But nothing more! And if you don't begin soon to explain what you want I'm just going to stop losing my time, stand up and leave this room to do those many other things I must do today."

"I'm stronger but let's admit we are equals" admitted reluctantly Ma Biorna.

"Let's admit it and let's go to business!" said d'Arcy. "Must I remind you that it was you that asked for this interview? If this was the point you wanted to let me know, are we done?"

"Indeed I asked because Maureen swears that you are a man of means and honor. Since she's in love with you her judgment could have been twisted and I had to see by myself. But I concur with her: you're a man of honor. As for the means the rumors speak of quite a large hoard in that bank of yours. And that's exactly what I need."

"If you need a loan, Edward Gardiner is the man you need to convince. With Charles being your grandson, you shouldn't have difficulties to get the sums you want."

Ma shook her head.

"I don't need money, or to be true, I don't need only money! What I really need is a new home for my Clan. And the means –and that's where the money will be useful- to get my people there. I already spoke about it with Gardiner but he's reluctant to launch what he qualifies as colonization…"

"He's a very fine connoisseur of what will be profitable. If he's reluctant, I will probably accept his arguments and refuse like he did."

"He didn't refuse!" countered Ma. "He postponed his answer. He wants to use us as a security force and believes that we couldn't provide both! He's wrong."

"So you say…"

"So it is!"

D'Arcy smiled at his vis-à-vis.

"You're a striking and determined woman, Mrs. Biorna, I'll recognize that. But being striking and determined isn't enough to change the facts of life. Mr. Gardiner is probably the smartest businessman I know and Charles is slowly growing under his tutelage into his equal and if both of them refused to back your enterprise I'll be very reluctant to finance an endeavor they did not consider worth of their money."

"They didn't refuse, they postponed!" insisted Ma.

"If you had that look in your eyes I wouldn't have refused either but my postponing would have been a very long one…"

Ma let out a long sigh.

"I'm not a kind person, monsieur d'Arcy. I'm the woman who's in charge of the survival of a Clan that numbers around ten thousand people. And I need most of those people out of Ireland without delay.

"Why is it so?" asked d'Arcy. "Your Clan fought against the British from the beginning alongside with all the other Irishmen. A great number of your men have been deported to Australia. You should be along those who are building the new Ireland. Why is it so necessary that you quit your lands and belongings?"

Ma shook her head.

"You don't understand, d'Arcy, because like so many others of our kind your ancestors chose to adapt to their new environment. Your Viking ancestors chose to become French and forgot that they were first and above everything Normen! We Biornas never did! We fought against the British scum because they wanted to rule over us not because they invaded Ireland. And we refused to bow in front of them. As we have done since we conquered the Irish. As we should go on doing like our forefathers did. But I feel that I'm losing my leadership on my people. They are tired of fighting and dying out of Pride. They are on the brink of letting go!"

"Why not let them go?" asked d'Arcy. "Racial prejudice is not only a sin, it is an idiocy! Believing that one is superior just because of his racial stock is sheer foolishness! I've fought against slavery since I have the means to do it! And you very well know that slavery is the end product of every belief that says that one race is superior to the other. And that's not the case!"

Ma made a face before forcing herself to stay calm.

"That's your opinion but look at yourself and look at your upbringing. Do you really believe that your racial stock has nothing to do with your current position as one of the leaders of Europe? Look at you cousin, Darcy, he's coming out of the same racial stock and he's King. If that's not a proof…"

"Your demonstration is flawed because the racial stock I come from is the foulest one can think of. My father was a swine and a rapist! The best example of scum I can imagine. If I could I would forsake my blood with pleasure."

"You just don't understand" said Ma. "Your father may have been a swine and a rapist, but nevertheless he was a leader and a ruler. And he was that because of his racial stock!" She shot him a fiery look. "We are what our ancestors wanted us to become. You are only a half blood and look at what you achieved! Imagine what could have been if your ancestors had, like mine, forced a strict racial segregation?"

D'Arcy shook his head and made a non-committal gesture.

"Mrs. Biorna. You're a woman of power and I won't deny that, in certain ways, I admire you. But you'll never ever be able to convince me that his racial stock is important in a man's destiny. Or if it is, it's because some idiots deny him his humanity because of racial differences! But I'm sure that if a man has the same beginning conditions and make the same efforts he will get to his goal whatever his skin color!" He stood up. "I'm not against helping you and your people to find a new home if you believe Ireland is no longer where you belong to. But it won't be because I believe in your theories about your race being better than the others. It will be because, with Charles' wedding, you're to become family. Let me know where you want to go and I'll see if I can organize something. The best way to do it would be to find a place where your people could produce something of great worth. It's always easier to organize something that has a chance to bring a profit. And the greater the profit the faster the set-up of the roundtrip will be. If what comes back in the ships we use to get your people to their destination is of great value, we won't have problems to finance ships and crews."

"We'll crew the ships" said Ma. "We are the best sailors in the world…"

D'arcy could only force himself to stay silent. Ma was one of those rare persons he recognized as equals. She had the strength and will to go after and get what she wanted. And even if her racial prejudices were difficult to stomach he couldn't deny that she was as dedicated to her task as he was himself when it came to reaching her goals.

"If you say so" he admitted. "Let's do it this way: I want to have accurate maps of the world and I want to have reports of every place on earth. I'll finance the construction of a dozen very modern ships that will give you the opportunity to explore what's not yet explored of the world. And I'll grant you one of the spots you discover as your own if said spot is empty of any further still existing human settlements. If you want to settle in an area where there are already human beings living I'll grant it but it will be under my rule. "He looked Ma into the eyes. "We wouldn't want to see those poor natives die in mysterious but expedite ways, now wouldn't we?"

"We are no murderers!" countered Ma.

"The problem my dear Mrs. Biorna is a problem of legality! Murder is when you kill a fellow human being! When you start considering other human beings as not being humans at all, the perspective changes immediately. Killing something you don't consider a human being it can have a lot of other names. Pest control being the most preferred in a country where I lived for quite a long time and where the ruling class shares some world views with you even if should you ever meet, there will be bad blood immediately! Find an empty spot and it is all yours to rule and to organize. Empty an already occupied spot and I'll have to make a real show based upon my proven non-racial superiority!"

* * *

"Mr. Bingley…"

"Monsieur d'Arcy…"

They shook hand in the French way; Charles pointed toward a seat and went back behind his desk.

"What can I do for you, monsieur le Proconsul?"

"I'm here for two reasons: first your Grandmother and what I envision doing to settle her demands and second I'd like a report of how our business is thriving. In the order you prefer."

Charles made a face and sighed.

"I had no idea you've already met my grandmother."

"I saw her an hour ago. Just before coming here. She asked for help and, in a certain way, I'm decided to grant it to her but not without taking a few precautions. She has a philosophy I'm rather reluctant to share. But she'll be family in the near future and I'm even more reluctant to refuse to help a family member in need."

"Her needs are peculiar ones" grumbled Charles "and she can be rather insistent."

"That's true but it could be an opportunity. We need to get the best knowledge possible about what's still out there undiscovered and open. I want to hire what she calls the best sailors in the world to map said world. And once mapped I want to be able to use what we've found."

Charles looked at his future brother in law with a frown.

"Who would use what we will found? The company? France? England?"

"It depends on what will be found. Minerals and ores should go to the Company, land and colonization opportunities…" D'Arcy smiled. "If there's a virgin Land that suits your Grandmother she'll have what she seeks! For those other lands and people… we'll cross that bridge when there, won't we?"

Charles nodded.

"We'll see" said Charles who had learned that half an answer from d'Arcy didn't mean that he was undecided about what should be done. It more probably meant that he wasn't about to share his decision.

"Let's go to the second point then" added d'Arcy making sure that the subject was closed. "How is the Company?"

Charles accepted the change of subject. D'Arcy was the main shareholder and his gold was the best security for their whole enterprise and for both these reasons he was, of course, entitled to all the news the board could share.

"We are not yet making a profit. We are spending much more than what our customers pay to get our products. And the French government is always late to pay its bills."

"But they are paid, aren't they?" frowned d'Arcy.

"We just got our first payment. Without the money which had been deposited at the bank we would be in dire straits. But as it is, since we are also the managers of the bank we finance the Company by cutting the bank's profit. But all in all, if we include every activity we have launched and financed we will come out of the red around June next year and we will have repaid everything at the beginning of 1803. From there on we look at very different perspectives."

"Not only in financial matters" smiled d'Arcy. "It should be around that period when England or Great Britain will be reborn. I'm quite sure there will be scores of new opportunities for the Company in the wake of this rebirth. I hope we invest in ship yards because I'm certain that with Great Britain reborn the need of a new stronger and more modern fleet will arise. We have the know-how to be the best shipbuilder ever, let's not waste that opportunity." He pointed into the general direction of the West. "That's also the reason I want our shipyards to begin developing ships for the little exploration scheme I conceived for Ma's famous sailors. We need to have the blueprints of warships at the ready when his Majesty will fathom the urge to rebuild the fleet which has just been sold to Russia." That put a frown on Bingley's brow. _The fleet? Sold to Russia? What_…

"King George sold all his most expensive vessels to the Czar" explained d'Arcy. "He got quite a jolly sum out of the bargain and since he was looking for an investment opportunity I proposed him a few interesting ventures. Becoming a share holder of the Company being one of them. I suppose his official proposition should reach you in the coming week. If you are looking for an increase in the Company's capital he would be your best opportunity. He should be able to invest up to 2 million pounds in the near future…"

Charles couldn't help but laugh aloud.

"I suppose this bargain has _Geoffroy d'Arcy_ written all over it…"

"Not in the least" smiled d'Arcy in that exact manner that contradicted his very words. "It was the Crown Prince's idea, even if I do remember having, in passing, made an allusion to the fast incoming obsolescence of current ships of the line. Even if his Grace is a very unpopular man he is not a fool and he soon grasped all the consequences of being the owner of an obsolescent fleet."

"Obsolescent fleet which is now in the hands of the Czar of Russia…"

"Not yet but soon to be…"

"Who, by the way and in passing, spent two million pounds to get it?"

D'Arcy smiled.

"The Crown Prince is a rather shrewd negotiator, I must admit…"

"Which has two advantages: give the Czar the fleet Russia was longing for for decades and depriving him of a lot of cash!"

"Cash…" smiled d'Arcy "that could very well be used to further improve England's investments."

Charles made a face.

"There will be a moment in the next months when the Czar will grasp what has just happened. He won't be happy to have been suckered."

"I played no role in this part of the negotiations," countered d'Arcy. "It was Napoleon who asked the Czar to meet with both the Hannovers and they did all their talks without any interference –or even knowledge- from my part. If there is, anywhere, a culprit, it can't be me…"

"Of course not" agreed Charles. "But please remember that Czars like any other Monarchs do tend when they are very pissed off to have a tendency to go over legalities. I would very much regret it if our main shareholder should die because of an accidental encounter with multiple impacts… Jane would be upset and I wouldn't like it at all!"

"I'll take your advice and be even more prudent in the next weeks."

He shot a last smile at Charles and soon his face was serious again.

"Let's go back to the problem at hand; our needs for new warships. I'll pay for the development of a few prototypes for which I'll provide the plans. And they must be built and tested within next year by Ma's crews. I want nobody else aboard these ships in order to protect the new technologies we will include in those ship hulls. When the need arises we will have standardized ship frames to offer to all and every buyer."

"We have bought for a rather decent price all the London ship yards. We are finishing the ships designed by the royal navy to replace their obsolete ships of the line. They are not extraordinary well-built but for a few years they will be top of the business."

D'Arcy made a face.

"Don't even try and finish them. Those ships, within five years, are just junk!" He closed his eyes to think. "The best would be to sell the whole shipyard complex for a little profit to anyone who wants it…" He nodded a few times and soon smiled. "I'm sure I can organize a little something including the Czar, the King of Prussia and the Austrian Emperor to get rid of this future junk. I'll let you know who the future buyer is."

Charles looked at d'Arcy with no little surprise. If there's one thing he would have bet on was d'Arcy's acceptation of the ship yard deals.

"Where do we build the new shipyards?" asked he finally.

"The isle of Man, that's where," answered d'Arcy. "The island belongs to me and I'm sure that I will be able to convince our dear Ma Biorna to send a few –if not a lot- of her Clan members to build a new port with a fortress and a score of ship yards. Since it's a private property outside English Irish or Scottish law, taxes will be at the lowest possible for investors who bring new life on the island. One day we could even move the headquarters of the Company on more friendly ground."

Charles had been taking notes and soon he was ringing an assistant to bring the new orders to his staff.

"Some other projects we should know about before making bad investments?" grumbled Charles.

"Don't take it wrong my dear Charles; we will make a profit with that sale. And with our shipyards out of the public eye we will be able to surprise the world with even more efficient and lethal ships. We are only at the beginning of a new era. We will change the world, Charles and the world will be a better one."


	71. Illegal Aliens

Chapter seventy-one: London Illegal Aliens

* * *

London, Tuesday the 30th of October

* * *

All were there, as they were in Cardiff, the whole Council of Dukes with one addendum: Honorable Duchess Lady Anna Maria of Newcastle, present Chairwoman of the Parliament. It wasn't an aristocratic tradition to include women in political Councils but in her case it was unavoidable. She was after all England's most influential woman.

Madame d'Arcy not counted of course.

"What do you advice", Anna, asked Devonshire who had been a personal friend of her late husband the general.

She looked at him and he could see that she was hesitating about how she should react. That he used her first name could be seen as patronizing or as a mark of closeness.

She chose to consider, as it has been, a testimony of familial closeness.

"We are before a difficult task," answered she. "We need to rebuild the sheen of the Monarchy the Georges have badly mauled. The little 'Republican' episode will not go away without being remembered. The French –or better said Lebrun and d'Arcy- did excellent jobs of showing themselves as champions of the people. Most of London's problems have been solved and the Londoners are prouder than ever before to be living in England's Capitol City. Even the public works which give everybody so many problems to move inside London are seen with approval. The people know that it will give them a better place to live in. And what's even more of a success is d'Arcy's Gendarmerie. That was a real master stroke. Those young people are exactly what London needed. They know the town and the inhabitants intimately and they have an extraordinary success rate when it comes to catch petty thieves or other public nuisances. But they aren't felt as being the French's obsequious underlings. We'll have to keep and confirm them…"

Richmond nodded.

"No problem there" said he with his usual clipped tone. "They are good lads. They believe in their job and they are obliging and respectful. No comparison with our old and corrupt police force."

"Well, I'm glad we are all so satisfied with her Grace's report" said Marlborough. "I don't doubt that the French are better than us –they invaded us, after all- but we are about to get our freedom back, what must we do to be in charge in the future as we were in the past?"

"We did get our freedom back because one woman was able to convince the man holding it to give it back to us" reminded the Duchess. "Our part in this endeavor was nonexistent."

"Paah" snorted Marlborough. "It's really not the first time in History a woman gets what she wants by spreading her legs."

That comment got him an ugly glance from the Duchess.

"How delicately you utter your contempt for her, your Grace" said the Duchess in a tone which would probably had chilled water to ice in less than a second. "Must I remind you that said woman was, while spreading her legs, as you so deftly remarked, the wife of the man she spread her legs for and convinced to let us free? And must I remind further that by giving us back our freedom said d'Arcy renounced to the richest and most populated part of what in my opinion must be called the French Empire? What, in your opinion has she gained by –as you so respectfully uttered it- spreading her legs, Your Grace? Do you realize that by using those words you debase her to the role of a whore?" She looked at the other members of that select little club. "And why am I not surprised that none of the here present gentlemen came to her defense? She's the most admirable woman I ever met and with only her love and power of conviction she sped our liberation for decades and the only respect she's gets from you who will profit the most of the return to the further conditions, is contempt and degradation! Would it perhaps be that's because in your minds we women who are not your wives are just that: whores? I must admit that those remarks do confirm a few of my suspicions regarding the past Power That Were!"

"You're uttering unfounded accusations," interjected Richmond. "Accusations based on the words –unfortunate I admit- of one of us? And if we didn't interrupt you it was because you were speaking…" He bowed in her direction. "One does not interrupt a Lady who's speaking!"

"Ohhh" smiled the Duchess. "So it was out of gallantry to me that you postponed your defense against madame d'Arcy's degradation? I'm sorry I so badly misunderstood you, gentlemen!" She shook her head. "Do you realize that with those words you literally take me for a fool? Is it because I'm a woman that you believe that I'm going to believe such a crappy excuse?"

Somerset made a face! Being among the youngest was always a strain within these gatherings. He wanted to go on to the important matters and his elders seemed to take pleasure at losing their time on secondary problems.

"My Lady, Gentlemen, please let's not go on this highly dangerous path. Let's keep on important matters and let's speak about what really interests us all: the future of England!"

"We are speaking of the future of England!" said St Albans rather energetically. "Do we want a country so radically changed that all the old traditions seem to be in danger?"

"Would you try to defend those same old traditions if the gender roles were reversed, Your Grace?" said the Duchess with a sarcastic undertone. "I'm not so sure…"

"Somerset is right…" called out Grafton. "Let's postpone the question of women's place in society and concentrate on political matters!"

The Duchess couldn't help but smile at the bad choice of words. The place of women in the British society was the most political question of all and those happy gentlemen just didn't care.

"We all agreed before" went on Grafton, "that we want a Monarchy but what we need is to get that idea over to the other people who will be members of the constituent assembly. And we need to decide how to do it…"

"We will get a Monarchy," shouted Marlborough. "That's not the important question. The important question is who will be at the rudder!" He looked at the Duchess. "And I fear for some people that precise problem has become unclear."

"I share your fear, Your Grace," said the Duchess. "It appears that some of us are unable to grasp the new realities of the times.

"There are no new realities!" cried Marlborough. "Or if they are they must be rooted out as long as there is time to control the damage."

"Rooted out…" chimed the Duchess. "We are really coming to the root of the affair!"

"Stop it" called out Somerset. "You can't simply go on taking the subject so carelessly, madam. Even if it is a rather secondary subject in my opinion you can't just..."

"Somerset" interrupted Grafton. "You can't speak thus to a Lady! Not at you age!"

"I stand corrected," grumbled Somerset who was showing that he didn't like being scolded in public.

"Indeed you do" insisted Grafton. "Even if we have welcomed her grace as an equal she's still a member of the opposite sex and we should act like gentlemen, not like simple commoners!"

"Gentlemen" interrupted said Duchess. "I'm sure that his Grace was only taken away by the stakes we are speaking of, and I must agree with him, we are being led on a side track. We should be here to speak about important matters and the following of the best of etiquette is perhaps not our most significant problem."

Somerset thanked her with a smile and a bow and Devonshire took the floor.

"You're right, Anna, let's go back to the more…" he hesiutated. "Easy problems! You saw the Darcys?"

The Duchess nodded.

"I saw them yesterday at the little party Lebrun organized to greet the return of the Proconsul."

"And what's your judgment" asked Somerset who had been corrected but who was still the most impatient.

"I shouldn't say it so bluntly but I'm impressed," said her Grace. "I spoke with young Fitzwilliam Darcy and I did like what I saw and even more what he said. He won't be easy to manipulate in the future…" She shot them a knowing smile. Difficult was their usual lot and she had no doubt that on important matters they would be able to convey their likings. "But he convinced me that he is a good candidate for the job. I never met him before but I must say he's an impressive young man."

"I knew him for quite a long time," added Richmond. "Intelligent perhaps even brilliant, he was renowned to be a hard working loner. Very dedicated to his people. I remember him from a few parties we were together as a rather unsociable young man. Aloof and proud. I'd bet on shyness but it could easily be taken as arrogance. From what I heard his marriage had done wonders with his social skills. I'll probably have to call on them in the near future to build my definite opinion."

"And how's madame d'Arcy" asked Rutland.

"Your age, John," answered the Duchess with a smile to a man she could still remember as a rather boisterous teenager. "And probably the most beautiful woman present at yesterday's party. She's the sort of human being who lights up a room with one of its smiles. But what's even more important is her extraordinary nearness to everybody. Nobody I saw was able to resist her charm. It's just that when you look at her, she seems to be aware of your look and turns around and greets you with a smile that has nothing to do with her excellent education, it's a genuine smile broadcasting that she's pleased to look at you. No surprise that d'Arcy fall for her like a boulder. I don't know how she was before he met and married her but now she's the most impressive human being I ever met."

"More impressive than d'Arcy?" chided Devonshire.

"I spoke of human being, your Grace. And if on the outside that's what d'Arcy looks like you only need to look once in his eyes to know that what you look at is a dangerous, hungry and pitiless predator. A predator that looks at his fellow humans like an entomologist looks at his pinned butterflies. Counting those he has already pinned and evaluating those he has still to pin on his board…"

"But it is that predator who gave England its freedom back…" said Grafton. "Isn't that contradictory?"

The Duchess nodded.

"I would have sworn the same if I hadn't seen the result of the Treaty!"

"So you confirm that she was the one behind his decision?" For the first time Beaufort came out of his mulish silence. He had been the greatest opponent to the Duchess' invitation.

"Not in the sense you seem to hint to, your Grace," answered she. "As I see it she will never try and manipulate him. She's probably just expressed her sorrow for England's situation and it was enough to trigger in her mate the need to find a way to make it disappear. It's not a manipulation in the common sense of the word; it's more of an emotional adjustment to her wishes." She looked at Marlborough and shot him a sarcastic smile. " And I must add that England's freedom never was her most wished endeavor. It was born with England's defeat in August but it is a by-product in madame d'Arcy's life, because the one passion she fought, fights and will, in the future, fight for is female emancipation." There she stopped to look at the powerful brotherhood before her. "And believe me when I say that she is much more driven by this battle than with anything else." She winked at the Lords in front of her. "I do believe that I've been nominated into the post I currently hold because of her. She is a pleasant, kind and lovable young woman, my Lords, but don't take her lightly. She knows what she wants and she'll do what has to be done –in her own light and pleasing way- to get it. And what's even more interesting: the people she's getting it from are as happy to have given it to her as she is to get it."

Devonshire snickered at these words.

"I'm glad that once in my life I'll be able to meet a woman who has got Britain's fighting spirit without leaving aside what makes a woman so delightfully different. That said, I'm sure that you'll agree with me when I say that she can fight all she wants, we will, in the end, prevail…"

"We've already lost that battle, man!" shouted Marlborough. "Look at her," added he while pointing very ungentlemanly at the Duchess, "we invited her and we made her one of us. If that's not female emancipation at work, what is?"

The Duchess of Newcastle couldn't help but let a winning and satisfied smile ornate her lips.

"Indeed, your Grace, indeed. That's the way madame d'Arcy's magic works. She suggests and let her listener know what she believes is best and without even knowing it her listeners begin to do their utmost to please her." She pointed at herself. "With the results you see with me. I'm quite sure the Third Consul has never been a promoter of female rights but here I am the Duchess of Newcastle, Chairwoman of the House of Lords and the Parliament. "Her smile grew to a very toothy one. "And with me came more than one hundred other women, most of them directly in the House of Lords, substitutes for their exiled or like me, deceased husbands. If you could come to House of Lords these days you'd be amazed by the things the honorable members discuss. Do you really believe those women who have had their share of the Game of Power will willingly disappear and vanish back to their former invisibility?"

"As George said, the worm is in the fruit" shouted Beaufort.

"What an ugly and sexist way to describe a situation, we as the, till now, excluded sex, had to accept willingly for centuries!" countered the Duchess. "In this matter you can be smart and accept the already occurred changes or you can ridicule yourself by tempting to turn the clock back." Her smile disappeared as soon as he had come. "We've been doing your job for a few weeks now and none of us has shown a greater degree of foolishness while doing the job than some of you would have. And we were, most of the time, present." She sighed. "I think it's time for me to let you gentlemen conclude your manly gathering in a way you find suitable." She turned around and walked to the door. Just before leaving she looked over her shoulder and shot an odd glance at them. "Until now I was in no way decided to back madame d'Arcy's fight! I must admit that his Grace the Duke of Marlborough was a much better recruiting officer for the Cause that she could ever have been. I had always doubts that women were more foolish than men. Now I'm sure some men are more foolish than others. For that I own you my thanks!"

And with those words she quit the room.

Five minutes later the house at Oxford Street was empty. After all they were here against d'Arcy's strict prescriptions that they had to stay in Wales until they were invited to come back. And with the Duchess angry with them they had chosen to postpone the meeting. Better safe than sorry!

* * *

Sean O'Suihead smiled sarcastically when he sawthose mighty Dukes running away like scared rabbits. He forced himself to stay calm and to remind himself of the orders. For now, d'Arcy wanted them alive and free.

Well, alive and free they would stay. Even if that was a great shame! He would have loved to kill each and every one of them. Ireland was perhaps now free but the price for 1798's massacres was still to be paid. But he would have to wait till the boss gave the signal for the final onslaught.

He knew it would come because even if he had wed a saint, deep inside he was still the same; a hunter out for the kill. She would give him the force he needed to go on but she would never tame him.

He looked at his men who, like the deadly shadows d'Arcy had taught them to be, were following those Aristocratic bastards to their lairs.

The second d'Arcy gave the signal he and his men would strike with deadly accuracy.

And nobody would ever see those mighty Brits again. But the sewer rats they would feed their corpses to.

They would die of poisoning but they were rats after all, nobody forced them to eat other rats even if they were of the two legged sort.


	72. Trinket

**Chapter seventy-two: London Trinket**

* * *

**London, Tuesday the 30th of October**

* * *

"Shouldn't we arrest them?" asked Lebrun.

D'Arcy looked up from the report describing the last events in Ireland.

"What for? As long as they are running around and plotting they are perfectly well confined. The day we arrest them we've got a dirt load of shit sitting in our courtyard."

"But your instructions…" said Lebrun.

"Are no longer of any utility" answered d'Arcy. "Now that we are going toward liberating England within the next fifteen months I'm not going to jail or shoot Aristocrats at random. It would negate all the positive image we are giving."

"We could arrest them and deport them back to Cardiff" said Lebrun. "Would do them a lot of good to discover that we never were fooled by their little schemes!"

"And it would render the surveillance a lot more difficult once they know we are spying on them." D'Arcy shook his head. "No, let them be. We'll learn much more about them and their connections as long as they believe themselves so much smarter than they are…"

"What about the Duchess of Newcastle? She should have made a report by now…" grumbled Lebrun.

D'Arcy looked up, placed the report back in its folder and stood up. He went to the Third Consul's desk and looked Lebrun into the eyes.

"Hey, man! What's happening with you? You're not your normal self! I've never seen you so upset."  
Lebrun sighed.

"I'm contemplating the end of my sojourn here and I'm dreading it." He let a sad little smile adorn his lips. "I like it here. I love what I'm doing and I really regret that I'll soon be back to Paris."

D'Arcy nodded.

"I understand! I would have liked quite the same but then you'll have the opportunity to do just the same in France. France needs also an economic and political overhaul. You'll do wonders there like you did here."

Lebrun shook his head.

"You know quite well that it won't be the case. France is in Napoleon's hands and he won't let me do what I had the opportunity to do here. He'll let me do what is necessary to increase France's income but he will clearly give me a lot less slack than I had here." He looked at the city of London and pointed at the people –a great lot of people- who were strolling in the Palace's garden. "Look at them, they trust us. They really do. This very morning I made a little stroll in the garden and a lot of people came to speak with me. Of course they are happy to be freed within a few months but that's not what they spoke with me about. They spoke about the changes we brought to England and most of them are welcomed by the people." He shook his head. "I'm popular, d'Arcy! How can a tax expert like me become popular? Nobody likes us, d'Arcy… Normally."

Geoffrey put his right hand on Lebrun's shoulder.

"I like you too, my friend. I was full of prejudices against you and I discovered a man who loves what he does and who thinks about ways to do it better without hurting the people. I'm proud to have been able to overcome my first distaste and force me to know you better."

Lebrun snickered.

"And your wife, of course, had nothing to do with such a shift?"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"Not directly," answered d'Arcy. "But she indeed has that certain effect on me that calms me and forces me to think over most of my reactions, but in your case it was what you did while I was injured that brought my shift in judgment. You could have changed everything but you just went on and built on what I had prepared. It was at that moment that I understood that you were not only loyal but smart and cultured. And what came out was even better than that I would have done. It's then that I knew that I was wrong about the Third Consul. You're much more than Napoleon's trusted henchman."

Lebrun nodded.

"Thanks but don't forget I'm also Napoleon's friend and follower. I owe him a lot and it is not my habit to forget my debts."

"You'll never have to choose between the two of us, my friend" assured d'Arcy. "I have no ambitions to become France next Caesar."

"You could" whispered Lebrun. "If Napoleon were to be Augustus, you'll be the perfect Caesar. It would be a clear and forceful message to every other ruler in Europe. France is about to become the new Roman Empire!"

D'Arcy shook his head.

"You know that won't happen. Napoleon is a Mediterranean; he wants a dynasty!"

"All Roman Emperors were Mediterranean and the smartest among them choose to adopt the best available man to give the best chances to the Empire."

"Marcus Aurelius was a smart man but he gave the Throne to his son Commodus who was neither smart nor great." Once more d'Arcy shook his head. "Don't daydream my friend! Such an outcome won't occur, you know it and I know it." He snickered. "There's more chance to see you become a Pear of England than I becoming Napoleon's heir."

* * *

"You trapped me" hissed the Duchess to Mary. "Thanks to you I'm now more known than ever before. And I hate popularity. There's nothing to gain to be well known!"

Mary nodded at the Duchess Waintree.

"What of it. Now you'll have so much more opportunities to weave your web" said she. "I'm quite sure you already know how to capitalize out of the position we forced you into. Your sisters will find it so much easier to travel to London now that you have that women's hostel under construction on Uxbridge Road. You'll soon be as popular in London as Jane. And we'll see that your participation in that new revolution is rewarded as it should be."

The Duchess came nearer.

"You should stop threaten me, girl. I have means to make you pay dearly!"

"I don't doubt it, your Grace" said Mary in the same tone. "And I wasn't threatening you! I was only stating facts. But you should consider that if you have means, we are not without possibilities." She opened her purse and took out a little box she placed on the table just between the Duchess and her. "You know, for a very long time I've been an astute reader of theological and religious tomes. And a few weeks ago, I remembered a tome I read when I was much younger. A tome in Latin about witchcraft and in which were to be found –if you believed the authors- quite a few recipes of how to counter it or reveal it." She smiled a very beatific smile. "Thanks to Geoffrey I got my hand on another copy of said book. This time it was an original and I was very surprised that it was so much more practical." She pointed toward the little box. "Please open it carefully."

The Duchess didn't take it but pushed it toward her and opened it with extreme precautions. There on a red silk cushion a little cross was resting. Mary had no doubt that the Duchess had immediately known what it was.

"I see you have recognized it."

The Duchess looked at Mary with anger and fear in her eyes.

"Where did you find it? I was sure there was not a single one to be found."

Mary shook her head.

"I didn't find it, your Grace. I built it myself…"

"Impossible" hissed her opposite. "That knowledge disappeared centuries ago."

"It helps to have certain powers, your Grace. And when those powers have never been sullied by greed, evil thoughts or other unreasonable emotions, they are available to build things like this… Sacred things like this. Things that are of use against certain sort of evil people."

Mary bent over and she delicately picked the little cross with her fingers. The trinket, probably due to the sunlight coming from outside the window, bristled brightly as soon as it was out of its box.

"It is said" added Mary, "that when in contact with certain power wielding persons, it reacts rather… dramatically. Shall we make a test?"

The Duchess sat back into her armchair and made every effort to increase the distance between her and Mary.

"Your Grace," said Mary while sitting back and playing with the little jeweled cross, "we are not yet at war and it would be better for everybody that our cooperation went on smoothly and were based on a mutual understanding of what is at stake here."

She looked at the cross and let it roll between her fingers.

"I was very surprised that I was able to manufacture it. The tome was so adamant about the sanctity the builder should possess that I doubted all along to be able to do it. But in the end it was easy. The only thing I had to do to seal the procedure was to look at the cross and made the link between my love for God, the love I was feeling for the beings that are near to me and the Love I knew God has for us. And from one instant to the other, the dull little piece of jeweled metal began to shine from within." She looked at the Duchess who could see tears of happiness watering her eyes. "It was probably the most intense moment of my life. The moment I had the proof that God was looking at us!"

A tear escaped from her right eye.

"I'm really sorry for all those beings that through egotism and other restricting emotions will never be able to feel the fulfillment that little endless moment gave me." She couldn't help but giggle. "Of course I wasn't in the least surprised to note that it had all the benign effects legends lend him." Her giggle became a deep laugh. "A fact no paragraph in the book pointed at is that cats hate to have it in their immediate vicinity. I hope rats react the same or we will soon have problems with rodents."

She picked up the box and put the little object back in it and then the box disappeared in her purse.

"And, to my great surprise, once you know how to build that little energy bridge, they are easy to manufacture, really. Costly I must admit because of the numerous precious things you need, but not difficult at all. I already had enough of them to made gifts to all my sisters…"

Her smile became different. Almost maternal and the Duchess hated it for what it meant.

"I know you don't like us because we didn't let you manipulate us. Because Jane did refuse to enter your little scheme and because of that didn't become one of your pawns. But you must rejoice because what you tried had the unexpected result to bring back to life an old and powerful sacrament. And I'm quite sure there are more such beautiful marvels hidden in ancient lore." A satisfied gleam woke in her eyes. "And I'm quite a patient student of ancient lore."

Finally Mary stood up and curtsied toward the Duchess.

"Don't make the mistake to believe we don't fathom how and where you work your magic. Let us live in good terms and in mutual respect and we will all live long and prosper."

"You're going to marry" hissed the Duchess. "The night you lose your virginity you'll lose your power…"

Mary smiled at the upset woman.

"I don't think so, your Grace. Remember, there are no such restrictions for those who use what God provides without any restriction. It is only because you dwell in lesser levels that you are restricted by such trivial matters. The night my love for my husband will take me on a new path God won't stop loving humanity… Since I only do what's coherent with God's Will, I'm not dependent on anything but on what He provides and that, your Grace, is infinite."


	73. Worship

**Chapter seventy-three: Worship**

* * *

**France d'Arcy Estate at Arques, Tuesday the 30th of October**

* * *

"They like us…"

"They worship the soil under Geoffrey's feet" grumbled Mr. Bennet. "You're his wife's mother so you must be perfect."

She shot him a pained glance.

"One could believe that you don't share their opinion!"

He nodded.

"Indeed I don't. I know quite well that a woman who accepted to marry a fool like me can't be perfect at all. It's as easy as that."

Mrs. Bennet sniffed in outrage.

"I haven't married a fool! I married a perfect gentleman who happened to be at the same time the most dashing redcoat I ever met and a man whose culture made me look in awe at him each time he took the time to explain to me one of his favorite subjects…"

Edward Bennet was no fool, even if he often had his doubts about his so called cleverness, and he got immediately the message his wife was sending him.

"I'm sorry dear if I disappointed you so often" said he finally. "I know I…"

She stopped him with a tap of her purse.

"I don't want your apologies! I want my husband back!" She looked at him. "We have both been fools for too long, on that we can agree. But it is now time to stop playing that role. We have overcome what could have destroyed our couple and our lives. Now I'd like us to stop playing make believe…"

He sighed.

"We are twenty five years older, dear" said he in a whisper.

"That is of no importance, love" answered she. "We both knew someday we would end older and weaker. But that's only a facet of a relationship between two adult and reasonable people. And if we had been adults for quite a long time I do believe reason has finally caught up with us a few weeks earlier. Am I not right?"

He nodded.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to do what you hope."

"I know you can, dear. You did it these first years of our marriage until we lost our faith in us and our marriage. I just ask you to go back to our past and retrieve that marvelous gift you had when with me." She smiled at him her most lovely smile. "You knew how to do it and I'm sure you didn't forget everything. And now, as said, _I want my husband back_!"

He looked her into the eyes and sighed. She was right. He knew how to do it. He was just not brave enough to do it. It was so much more restful to go on like all these past years. Hiding in his study oblivious to the world and his family.

Her smile became more aggressive.

"Don't make the mistake to believe that I will let you chicken out of it. I've waited long enough and now I want what's my due! What Jane and Lizzie have been able to get their husbands to do, was mine too a few years ago, don't believe a second that I'll forsake getting it back."

He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him.

"I know it is uncomfortable for you but it is necessary even for you. What you've done was hiding from yourself and waiting to die. I want you to stop dying and coming back to live. I'll prove to you that a life with me is worth living!"

* * *

"Is she really as beautiful as on this portrait?"

Mrs. Bennet looked at Clarissa, the young woman who was d'Arcy's Housekeeper in Arques.

She looked at the mighty picture her son in law had commissioned for each and everyone of his estates. This one was signed by David and was picturing her daughter as Athena at the side of a very d'Arcy like Arès. She had been rather amazed that Geoffrey had chosen to see her portrayed as the war like Athena and not Aphrodite but then she wasn't sure how she would have reacted if she had seen a portrait of her beloved daughter hanging naked over a chimney. Athena was too warrior like but much more seemly.

"That she is" answered finally Mrs. Bennet. "In fact she is even more beautiful because in real life she never looks so formal and serious. There's always a smile on her face and a joyous glint in her eyes. This David is an idiot to paint only figures coming out of ancient mythology. Reality is, in my opinion, much more beautiful."

"Will she have the time to come here?"

There was longing in the young girl's voice.

"I don't really know, dear. They are quite busy right now and they'll probably stay in England till after the delivery of her children…"

"Children?"

Mrs. Bennet nodded.

"She's sure she's carrying twins. A boy and a girl to be more precise." She snickered. "In fact both my married girls are pregnant and both pretend waiting on twins." She looked at the young woman and smiled. "We'll soon know if they are very sensitive mothers or just daydreamers."

"I'm glad the dynasty's going on" said Clarisse. "The d'Arcy's, the master's father excluded, have always been very successful rulers."

"Even _he_ was successful" reminded Mr. Bennet who was sitting by the fire place. "He increased tenfold his properties."

"He cheated and robbed from the weak" countered Clarisse. "A real d'Arcy would have conquered. As the Master has shown how it must be done. We are very proud the young master came back from so far away to Give the d'Arcys a new start." Her smile grew even more. "And we all think his most impressive conquest is your daughter."

Mrs. Bennet nodded at the show of enthusiasm.

"And his conquest wasn't an easy one" said she. "But it was a mutual conquest; they do love each other quite madly."

"Which is a very good thing, madam. Because the rumors say that an unhappy married d'Arcy is a very bad thing for the people."

"Well this one is happily married" said Mr. Bennet "and his wife is, in my opinion, very accommodating."

Mrs. Bennet shot a warning look toward her husband.

There were things they had agreed upon never to speak in public. Never even to allude! He accepted the reprimand and went back to his book.

Mrs. Bennet could help by find the situation amusing.

He who had secretly taken mistresses was upset because his daughter had chosen to accept another woman's love in her life. They had already spoken about the whole situation but he just couldn't understand why Jane was accepting it.

He was even refusing to believe that it had been his daughter who had generated the whole situation. Well, with Geoffrey's reputation as a manipulator she could well understand why her husband would believe that his perfect daughter had been 'persuaded' to accept Maureen's presence.

It was probably her husband's imperfection that prevented him to understand that, on the contrary, it was his daughter's perfection which was at the base of everything in that couple's life.

She often wondered if, placed in the same circumstances, knowing that not sharing would have destroyed her rival, she would have been able to share her husband's love in such an effective manner.

She fancied to believe herself capable of such a feat but feared that it would, probably, have been too much for her.

"How was it when he came back?" asked she finally more to change the subject and her husband's mood than out of curiosity.

"Difficult" answered Clarisse. "The new owner refused to sell it back. The master was forced to show that crook that he wasn't at par with him."

"Did he kill him?" asked her husband.

"No, not him, he offered him ten times what he had given for the estates and then gave him a week to give his consent. Within this week the crook hired armed men to make the master disappear." A smile blossomed on the girl's lips. "The third morning when for the second time he woke up with his men's heads in his bed he finally signed the contract." She sighed. "But he was a fool; he tried to get it back by going to justice." She made a face. "The master wasn't pleased, he fought back and the man was guillotined because of crimes against the State he had committed during the Revolution. The other owners of estates belonging to the Master's family were not so foolish. They all sold when he proposed."

"That's not the way of a kind man" grumbled Mr. Bennet who, for the last weeks was rather dissatisfied with his eldest son in law.

"To be kind in not a d'Arcy's path!" came the immediate answer. "The men of the d'Arcy blood are ruthless and very determined. When they are luck it's their wives kindness that transforms them. If not, being unkind is the least of their failings."

"You seem to admire him for that…" insisted Mr. Bennet. "Shouldn't you fear him instead?"

"A true d'Arcy respects his people and protects it. This d'Arcy has shown that he has our interest at heart. His father was insane and was soiling his own nest. Luckily for us the heir has demonstrated that even an insane d'Arcy can spawn a true d'Arcy."

Mrs. Bennet frowned at Clarisse.

"You speak of being a true d'Arcy, but what do you mean by these words? That he is a successful conqueror?"

"No, it helps but it isn't what's important for us. What's important is that since he came back he gave us pride and a new purpose. Serving him gave our lives sense and security."

"How so?" asked Mr. Bennet.

"He came with a huge fortune and invested great amounts of money in the whole region. Within one year he opened dozens of factories which created jobs for everybody. He hired a doctor and built a school. He knows what's important for us and now that he is married and soon to be a father, he'll do what's needed to reinforce his dynasty."

"And what will he do?"

Clarisse looked at Mr. Bennet with amazement in her eyes.

"He'll do what his forefather did: he'll grab what's his due and get back the Crown of Great Britain, what else?"

* * *

"Tomorrow we go to London!" said Mrs. Bennet to her husband while she was preparing herself for the night.

Mr. Bennet looked up from the book he was, with difficulty, trying to read.

"Why? What about our 'Estates' Tour'?"

"Postponed to another year!" said Mrs. Bennet. "Now I need you in London."

"Why?"

She turned and looked at her husband.

"Because my dear husband is fuming in the inside, that's why! And since I've never seen him so angry, I'm taking steps to let him deal with the reason of that anger!"

"I can't speak to him; it would end badly…" cried he.

"You won't speak to him!" she said. "I'm no fool and I won't let you throw your life away. You'll speak to your perfect daughter and let her explain to you why _SHE_ chose to share her husband with her husband's ex mistress. And after she's explained to you and you've expelled all that proud anger out of your system we'll go to Meryton to prepare the double wedding I'm sure Kitty and Mary are dreaming of."

She looked him in the eyes and her eyes had a typical d'Arcy glint.

"And my decision is not open to negotiations!"


	74. Homecoming

**Chapter seventy-four: Rosings Homecoming**

* * *

**Kent, Tuesday the 30th of October**

* * *

"I don't like saying it" grumbled her mother, "but you were perhaps right…"

Anne hid her smile and just nodded.

"We de Bourgh females are often right" chided she.

That got her a smile on her mother's lips.

"Well one of us surely always is" she admitted. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't" interrupted Anne. "Too late for that and even if it was difficult to be smothered by you the way you did, it was the perfect school I needed to develop what are my strengths. Had you let me blossom to what I was born to I would have missed that mysterious, sneaky and manipulative part that I love to share with Geoffrey…" She looked at her mother. "You know that he's decided to put me in charge of his spy ring?"

Seeing her mother's eyes, she wasn't.

"You? In charge of his spy ring? But that's…" she searched for words and soon understanding her daughter's feelings changed what she was about to say. "…Amazing! I suppose you spoke about it before he put you in charge?"

"I asked him to give it to me…" answered Anne. "I was able to convince him that I'd be better than him at it!"

Lady Catherine nodded approvingly. Yes she could see her daughter convince d'Arcy that she would be better at it than him. And what was probably even more frightening was that she would probably really be.

"Is it why we came back to Rosings?"

"In part yes" answered Anne. "I'll be working from here out most of the time. It will mean a few delays but with the whole neighborhood under our strict control we won't be infiltrated as easily as it would be the case in London. Here, the second a spy shows his nose, I'll know and I'll act accordingly! But I also wanted to see what those work gangs had done with our House." She smiled at her mother. "Please take into account that our wine cellar is now under the east wing and has three storeys in order to give us the same space as before. Sadly indeed I must report that all the cellars under the central building and the west wing no longer exist. We had to fill and wall them for security reasons."

Lady de Bourgh nodded while smiling. She has always been proud of her daughter but now she was more than proud: she was in awe before her. Not that she would ever show her such a foolish emotion but deep inside she reveled in the knowledge that it was her daughter who was d'Arcy's right hand in matters security. Anne was considered by the only man she respected as an equal. And that was worth more than any compliment she had ever heard.

"We tried to respect your former choices within you apartment and the dining rooms. The decoration is very similar but the lightning has been changed to correspond to newer standards and we have added running water and cabinets in all the washrooms, you'll see that we won't need chamber pots anymore in these walls. And, for my part, I won't regret that part of my former life." She pointed toward the western woods outside the main buildings. "There are a few great outbuildings who are about to be finished all around here in places where the view from the main building won't be impaired. It's where we will house the administrative part of my new business and a lot of new and efficient servants." She frowned. "Armed servants for the most part, mother. I hope it won't bother you."

"I probably won't be here a lot of the time, dear. Duchess Newcastle has asked me to chair the Constituent Assembly and even if it will badly restrain my much feared rhetoric it is much more a job in my age range. And I'll be the one who decides about the agenda," her smile grew, "and that's worth a lot, indeed!"

Anne made a little gesture and a middle aged man was immediately at her side.

"That's Jordan, the new head butler, mother. I hope you'll find working with him as easy as I find it, but if there are difficulties, let me know and I'll have somebody else be your privileged servant. If you want I can even call Matthews back from retirement!" She smiled. "He wasn't very happy to be offered an early retirement. If you want him back, I'll get him for you…"

Lady de Bourgh nodded at that affirmation that spoke volumes about the way her daughter was feeling. She had clearly everything tightly in hand and was no longer afraid that her mother's old cronies could hinder her in any way.

"I'll ask him to come," she answered her daughter. "I'll present him the new situation, if he agrees to play a much tamer role in the household as before I'll probably like to have him around. If he can't adapt we'll do with the new crew!"

Anne thanked her with a smile and made a head gesture towards Jordan.

"Jordan will show you everything in the house, mother. I for my part are needed somewhere in those cellars that no longer exist." She curtsied to her mother. "If you'll excuse me?"

"Go dear," answered Lady Catherine. "I won't delay you any further."

* * *

"How many?"

Anne's head analyst, Cockroach was his name, made a face.

"More than one hundred, madam. They have followed the Dukes when those decided to move to London."

Anne snickered.

"And none of those fools ever took notice of half of Wales trailing them!" She shook her head. "I hope they are better in politics than they are in security matters because if they are not we are in for a few nasty surprises."

"We won't let them surprise us, madam" said Cockroach. "We have reports of each and every one of their meetings. The houses they are hiding in have been thoroughly prepared by the Boss' crews. They can't fart without us knowing what they've eaten!"

Anne smiled at the coarse language. She loved it to be one of the guys!

"They are non-entities" she said finally. "Let's not lose too much man power on uninteresting farts! We have other more dangerous foes to look at. How about Fouché's couple?"

"Doing their work with care and efficiency. They are searching for Ugly George and without our interferences they would probably have found him in his cell. For now we could send them on a few fool's errands. But they are stubborn and sneaky bastards. They won't be fooled for much longer. We should hire them…"

"We'll do just that the moment they find cousin George. I'm sure they will prefer that alternative to the other." Her smile disappeared. "Other which will be implemented the moment we are certain that they threaten this whole operation."

"Of course, madam, we won't take any risk."

Anne shook her head. She had no proof but she was sure that cousin George was in jail because of Geoffrey d'Arcy. As she was sure that the whole stunt George had organized to become the 'Darcy Rebel' had _d'Arcy_ written all over it! Her dear cousin was preparing something with some of his other secret services. For now she knew with certainty of two of those cells which were serving Geoffrey without being on any Republican payroll. The one he had gave her to manage not included. And none was dealing in the George Darcy case.

She would have to use other methods to get the answers. Ask him perhaps?

"What about Istanbul? Did we get interesting news from our people there?"

"Plenty news but there are discrepancies between our official spinet and the hidden ones."

Anne nodded. As usual there was the official French spinet which worked for the French Republic and whose reports were copied and sent to Fouché by an employee on the Minister's payroll. It just happened that while en route to Fouché said reports were once more copied –twice- and the copies sent to Fouché and Napoleon. The originals arriving here on her desk. And then there was d'Arcy's spinet –called Djaia short for Janissary Reporters- that if smaller was much better situated in the Sultan's hierarchy and there was the spies planted in the Czar's and the Emperor's spinets that gave them quite a few interesting tidbits of information.

"Discrepancies?"

"Indeed, discrepancies," answered Cockroach. "What we get out of the official spinets all indicate that the troops are being sent toward the Syrian border. What comes out of Djaia says just the same but with a little difference. Most of the Janissaries are indeed moving East but only toward a Port where they will be shipped to an unknown destination. And if they don't want to organize a landing somewhere in French Middle East, which I doubt since they have neither the experience nor the barges to, they will clearly be headed toward some other parts of the Empire."

"Under whose command are the Janissaries?" asked Anne.

"Suleyman Bey" came the immediate answer. "He has been nominated recently in replacement of Bashar Bey."

"Suleyman knows Greece perfectly well if I remind correctly" said Anne while thinking. "Bashar was born in Syria on the other side. That change of commanders seems to indicate that the Janissaries are headed toward Greece." She frowned and looked at Cockroach. "What's the probability that they are double crossing us? Changing the commanders just to put the doubt into our previsions?"

"Changing a Janissary commander is a big political deal. The Janis don't like to be played with. No Sultan in his right mind would play with that cesspool without reason. Probability is that the Janis forced the commander change to be sure to get the best one to command them when on site. And it is as of now a secret. Djaia let us know but nobody elase in Istanbul knows or the change of cammander. Bashar will ride at the Janis head toward the East."

"That means that they know of d'Arcy's Grecian landing operation…"

"They suspect, I'd say. The decision has not yet been taken."

"But it is the best idea to win and win easily" countered Anne. "Was I the Sultan I'd jump to the same conclusion!"

She made a face.

"Make a report to d'Arcy and let him know that I advise to abandon Plan Agamemnon because I think the intel has been compromised. I suggest going on Plan West Sweep. Nobody's awaiting anybody in Northern Lybia: should be a piece of cake to mop up the coast till Gibraltar and it would be a very impressive feat. And we could have the unexpected help of the US fleet which just entered the Mediterranean Sea to attack the Pirates of Algiers." She nodded at Cockroach. "Do it, I want my advice on d'Arcy's desk this evening."

She took another folder while Cockroach was replaced by von Kreisitz.

"Prussia…" she shook her head at the German analyst who was d'Arcy's known specialist about the snakepit some called Germany. "Are all Germans mad or is it only true for Prussians?" asked Anne finally.

That earned her a proud smile from von Kreisitz who was a Prussian to the core.

"We aren't mad, we are romantics… We can't stop to dream to get what never was. Building back the might of our home country is one of those dreams!"

"What home country?" hissed Anne. "You've never had one united country in two thousand years' time. You are the most quarrelsome people of whole Europe and even Italians are more eager to work one with the other than you!"

"That was the fact in the past, now with Prussia on the rise everything will change, we will build a united Germany and when that's done, we will conquer the world."

Anne shook her head and looked toward the heavens.

"What, if I have to believe your reports, the future is Russia invading Prussia because the Czar wants the Prussian King's wife!"

Von Kreisitz nodded.

"That's what I reported indeed. And the part with the wife is accurate but it is only one part of the bargain. What the Czar is really wanting is becoming a real European Ruler, a long way apart from Russia's Boyars."

"And you're sure the Prussian King suspects nothing?"

"No, as said we Germans are wonderfully romantics" answered von Kreisitz. "Friendship is a virtue we believe in and respect. Friedrich Wilhelm believes Alexander is his best buddy and that together they'll…" he hesitated, "…_conquer_ isn't quite the right word, let's say _liberate_ Austria… Which is probably the truth but when it is done, the King of Prussia is in for a big nasty surprise. And he is probably in for a quick death!"

"And why is it that you report such things with a smile on your lips? Knowing you as the archetype of _Prussianitude_ I would have sworn that such news would shatter you."

"It would if I wouldn't be sure that d'Arcy will be doing its utmost to make Alexander's attempt fail" answered von Kreisitz with a smile. "France has no interest in letting Russia swallow up Prussia. So d'Arcy will help Prussia just to maintain the present status quo. If we Germans are Romantics, d'Arcy on the contrary is the archetype of realism. He'll do what has to be done to save my King."

"Your file says that you hate Friedrich Wilhelm…"

"I hated his father and I entered d'Arcy's service to take revenge of the late King. But I won't deny that I still consider myself as a Prussian Aristocrat. And as such it is my duty to save my country. Using the man who uses me to do it is even more satisfying than everything else."

Anne shook her head. At least the man was trustworthy.

"I'll send my report to d'Arcy with a strong advice not to meddle in German affairs" said she finally. "You might be right for France's interests, but I'm not sure it won't be better for England to have a strong Russian European Empire to counter the French Mediterranean one. It will be to him or Napoleon to decide what to do. Either way it should be interesting!"


	75. London Sisters

**Chapter seventy-five: London**

* * *

**London, Wednesday the 31****st**** of October**

* * *

The sisters had, once more, gathered to make decisions. In the absence of both their parents and Jane and Lizzie being married they no longer needed to bother her Uncle to get things done.

Jane, for all the obvious reasons, was heading the meeting as usual.

"We have a lot to discuss, so let's hurry we have all a very tight schedule."

"Mine is not so tight" said Lydia. "But I'll be careful not to waste your time."

Jane thanked her with a smile and, with a gesture, invited her to go on.

"You have seen the Duchess" said Jane. "How was the conversation?"

"I'm not the last one who saw her" stated Lydia. "When we parted she wasn't happy but she had still the hope to get the whole situation under control." She looked at Mary. "Once she parted with Mary I do believe she no longer was…"

Jane who had been very busy working over the lists of intended constituents, frowned.

"You saw the Duchess?"

"I not only saw her but we spoke" answered Mary. "Or, to be more precise, we threatened each other and I won the contest!"

That affirmation brought all the attention of the little meeting on Mary. Mary contrary to a few weeks earlier didn't flinch. She took all that attention in stride and with a smile.

"You remember the little trinkets I gave you with the strong advice to always wear them somewhere on you? Well I presented one to the Duchess and the only thing she didn't do in reaction was crying out shrilly and fleeing."

Jane nodded and her hand went by reflex to the little jewel that was discreetly adorning her calf.

"Of course we remember. What about them?"

"They have a very flowery Latin name but let's just call them Witchbane, won't we? They clearly had a hypnotic effect on the Duchess who literally put as much distance as possible between it and her. It seems I really found something that has a real effect. If we can believe the old tome where I found the recipe each jewel has a general protecting effect or the power to ward off one powerful witch spell. Or if used against a witch it has a very powerful debilitating result. No witch can touch it without suffering the consequences. Those last two effects burn it out and even the precious metal used can't be salvaged."

Lydia made a face.

"Which means that I won't be able to study witchcraft in secret while I wear your trinket?"

"Absolutely" agreed Mary who, because the two sisters had spoken quite lengthily, knew of Lydia's quandaries in that matter. As she knew intimately that even if badly tempted Lydia would hold her ground steadfastly. "The day you're a witch you will get rid of the trinket. One way or the other."

"Interesting…" said Lizzie. "You really believe she was afraid. She didn't make a show of it to make you feel secure?"

"Everything's possible but I doubt it, she really wasn't expecting anything of the sort. She was surprised, I'm quite certain. And what's even more, she recognized my little trinket."

"Well that's good news" approved Jane. "And it's not the only one." She stayed on Mary. "You're still determined to marry in Meryton?" She looked at Kitty. "Both of you?"

The sisters both nodded while smiling.

"We'll have to await papa and mamma's return. I know both your fiancés have father's agreement but it just won't do to do the ceremonies without them present. I'll write to them to ask when they could be back at the earliest. And we will go on from there."

She glanced at Lydia.

"No happy young man at your door?"

"Not yet" said Lydia while smiling mischievously. "I'm looking but the horizon is Beau free!"

"What about the Viscount Andover?" asked Kitty. "I've heard he has been seen in your company quite often."

"Quite often is a gross exaggeration." winked Lydia while looking at a scarlet Georgie. "We've seen him twice and it's Georgiana who believes him irresistible. So he's off limits since I wouldn't hunt a sister's suitor!"

"He isn't my suitor" hissed Georgiana.

"His loss" chided Lydia. "But in my opinion he's soon to be. I've seen it in his eyes. He's interested in you, Georgie. He's hooked, that's for sure. I just don't know what is interesting him more, the girl or her relations. We'll see if he comes back to London soon. It will be a sure sign!"

Jane smiled at Georgiana who was showing signs of stress.

"Don't despair; he is probably interested in the girl and in the relations. He would be superhuman not to be but that doesn't mean that he's playing a part when his feelings come into play. He's to be Duke so without Fitzwilliam's new status he would probably never had looked at you. But now it is too late, He's seen you and this girl's relations are the best on the marriage market. That will secure him in his endeavor." She looked Georgiana into the eyes. "But in the end it will be your choice, dear. He'll ask but you'll always have the power to refuse him. Count on Fitzwilliam and Lizzie for that."

Jane smiled a last time at Georgiana and her eyes returned to Lydia.

"What about your Princeling?"

Lydia puffed.

"I like him and we had fun together but he's hooked up with this cousin of him. It's a love affair and a dynastic matter. He won't come to London for me. If he comes it will be to spy for his brother or the Czar. No chance for the Bennets to become cousins with the Hohenzollerns thanks to me. Pity but I'll survive. I'll have to look at lesser titles to find a husband." She smiled at Jane and her smile wasn't forced. "I'm in no hurry and, as said, it was fun. But I knew from the beginning that he was calling on me only for political reasons. Didn't prevent him to be funny and cute and a real encyclopedia in matters Germany and Russia. I learned a lot…"

Jane acknowledged her sister's words with a nod and her hand went as out of its free will to cover Elizabeth's.

"Lizzie, do you have some announcements?"

Lizzie shook her head.

"Nothing important to announce from my side. We will stay in London for quite a few time. Fitzwilliam believes and I think he is right, that Wales' fate will be decided here in London. So we will stay at the Darcy House as long as needed to be sure about the next political evolutions in Great Britain."

"And personally?" asked Jane.

Lizzie smiled at Jane.

"The family's fine. No morning sickness and my personal midwife predicts a smooth and satisfactory pregnancy. We should bring those two into the world without fuss." She squeezed Jane's hand tenderly. "And it should be equally easy on Jane's side. We should be able to respect the schedule and increase the family around next May."

"The storm on sea had a funny side effect on me" said Jane. "It made me sick and for a reason I can't fathom there is a lingering sickness which plagues me from time to time…"

"Morning sickness?" proposed Mary.

"Too late for that" denied Jane. "Normally it ends after three months. It doesn't begin so late in the pregnancy. It isn't debilitating and I can go on doing most of my chores but I'm feeling unwell. Just as if I'd eaten bad food. It's annoying though and I'd like to get rid of it."

"Well, give your body a few more days," said Mary. "We just came over after all. Could be that you are tired and that being tired you have greater difficulty to come back to health. The storm was a strong one there were quite a few persons aboard who were sick. Géraud for instance has still a delicate stomach. Even if he hates it he's down on oats for a few days more."

"I was more scared than sick" admitted Georgiana, "but I must admit that I'm not back to normal yet. Eating still makes me uneasy."

"I'll ask Abd Alkader to have a look at you" said Maureen who even if not included in the sister circle –she had refused Jane's invitation- was hovering over her ward just in front of the door to the sitting room. "I don't like it when something unexplained ruins my tranquility." She looked at Mary. "Has he looked at your fiancé?"

Mary shook her head.

"He refuses to acknowledge that he isn't at his peak. He tries to hide his discomfort as much as possible."

Maureen made a face and didn't comment any further but the sisters were sure that first thing after the meeting the doctor would be informed.

"It can't be poisoning" said Jane. "I haven't eaten anything aboard. It's perhaps just seasickness."

"Seasickness doesn't resist to a good landfall!" grumbled Maureen. "Not more than a few hours anyway. I'll insist that he looks at you. No fuss about it, it's only, hopefully, a late Parisian bug but I refuse to be careless. It's too important." She looked at Jane. "I won't lose you."

"Why don't you heal yourself?" asked Lydia. "It's probably not more difficult to heal a sickness than to close a wound. You should try."

Jane seemed surprised. Indeed why hadn't she thought of it herself. It was perhaps not possible but it was worth a try.

"I'll try it later when…"

"No" interrupted Mary. "You'll try it while we are with you, Jane." A worried look and a frown were adorning her face. "I don't want to worry you but I do believe you'll need us for that!" She looked at Maureen. "I'm going to ask some very weird things in the coming minutes, please don't doubt my sanity and just do what I ask."

"What happened?" It was Jane's turn to look worried.

"When Lydia spoke I had that odd feeling that you wouldn't be able to master what's ailing you without us. I got that very strange image of us all holding hands to for a circle and I saw Maureen embracing you from behind… And I…" She stopped. "I know it looks crazy but I feel that it is what must be done. Because we are all involved and we won't be able to correct what's happening without working together." She looked at all her sisters. "Will you follow my lead and trust me in this?"

All the sisters looked at each other and Lizzie was the first to nod. The others followed her lead within seconds. Last there was Maureen who looked at Mary and finally smiled. "It will be an honor to embrace and protect my sister in love."

All the eyes were soon on Mary who forced herself to regain her wits.

"I'm improvising here; I just hope I'll be able to do the right thing." She took a long breath. "Please let's hold hands and if it helps close your eyes. I will stop talking and concentrate on what has to be done. Please just calm yourself and breathe profoundly while I wonder about what to do." She stopped talking and a strange silence came on the little sitting room.

Maureen had tried a few positions and had finally opted to get Jane to sit in her lap while embracing her tightly. And just before closing her eyes she approached her lips from Jane's ear and whispered what she knew was the right thing to say.

"You _are_ my sister in love and I won't let anything happen to you… Ever!"

She felt Jane's response by feeling her totally relaxing in her arms.

She knew that her sentence was not finished. That the fitting end would have been: _I love you_… But those words she was still unable to utter. But she knew Jane had heard them nevertheless.

* * *

After a long moment of worried silence Mary's voice was again to be heard. But was it Mary's voice? It sounded like hers but it was subtly different. No longer worried and no longer stressed. Just calm and full of confidence. And her calm and confidence was soon in all their hearts.

"We've been apart for so long… What a joy it is to be anew able to feel you at my side!" There was joy to be felt in her voice and that joy was soon shared and amplified. "We have closed our eyes but that doesn't mean we are unable to see. Let's use those other senses we have and we forgot the day we opened our eyes and looked at the hell surrounding us. See the light coming from within our sisters. See the light coming from the objects surrounding us. Let the light swallow the darkness and be!"

* * *

Maureen couldn't help but shiver. A part of herself was shaking and shuddering. _This isn't right_ was a part of her soul shouting. _Get out of here. Don't get along with this_…

She crushed the wail! She had to stay to protect Jane and no part of her would be allowed to stand in the path of her beloved sister. And soon she felt light oozing out of her shattered soul, healing and reforging it. A smile appeared on her lips and she too relaxed to bask in the marvelous light her sisters were creating.

* * *

Jane had never doubted that her links to her sisters were so much tighter than anybody could imagine. Now she could feel it. They were at her side. More: they were with her, in her, part of her. She could feel the warm blue link that had been with her all her life. And that link was the part of Lizzie's soul who had always been with her even before Lizzie's birth. She recognized that link for what it was. The weaving of lives and lives of shared love. Then there was the pink of Mary's steadiness. A pink she had encountered often in her cycles. It was another quality of love, a love without passion but with the stubbornness born out of conviction and faith. The love of a priest for his flock, the love of a father for the children a beloved wife had begotten him. A love that could stand against everything lives could throw at you. The Golden threads of Kitty and Lydia were as so often interwoven and Jane suddenly understood that what she and Lizzie shared was at par with what Lydia and Kitty had in common. There was Passion between those two. The sort of Passion that often ends in tragedies. Tragedies they had postponed by choosing to share their lives as sisters. Finally there was the thin thread of light coming from Georgiana. White or Silver, it was. She knew it wasn't their first shared encounter but they had been so rare she had difficulties to place that soul in relation to hers. But it was her energy that was binding everything together. So thin and subtle that it was almost invisible! But it was what knotted everything in place. That and Maureen's tremendous strength that was flowing through her, nurturing her and building the bubble where they were all safe and secure.

* * *

It had been the most subtle magic she had ever woven. Subtle in terms of strength and in terms of ingredients. Not strong enough to incapacitate and not too weak to be of no use. It had been forged in hatred and cunning and was the most sly spell she had ever cast. And it just stopped existing. One second she was in control, seeping her magical poison through the other woman's love and the next there was nothing to hold on. Just as if…

* * *

Mary had seen the little black thread as soon as Maureen's bubble had severed it. She followed it through time and space and soon was looking over the shoulder of a person she knew quite well.

"We cut it…" she whispered. "And I'll dispel the remains in the next few seconds…"

The Duchess turned around and looked at a point in space just before her. Just where Mary was 'thinking' herself to be.

She could read fear in the other woman's eyes.

"It's not w…"

"Don't lie to me" said Mary in another powerful whisper. "I'm quite cognizant of what you were doing. And I know that it would have had negative effects on my sister's health."

The Duchess walked back as if repelled by a commanding hand.

Mary knew that what she was seeing was as real as it was possible while being hundreds of miles apart. "I won't repeat it a third time, your Grace. We proposed a truce and we had no intentions of breaking it. You chose to go on in your old usual ways. I acknowledge your decision! Shall it be known that for now we won't retaliate in kind. Our proposal was made in good faith and in the hope that old habits could be overcome. It seems that it won't be the case. I'm sorry for you and for the lost opportunities. I'll let you think about the consequences of your actions. Good evening your Grace. May God bring light into each and every one of your enterprises."

With these blessing words she snapped herself back into the sitting room of London's Palace.

She was quite satisfied to notice that none of her sisters had been able to follow what has happened just now.

She smiled. It was better for everybody involved that that little attack stayed as secret as it had been.

She knew that if anything else should happen she would have to take measures. She would be forced to retaliate; it would be her role to do what had to be done. A smile appeared on her lips when she remembered Emilie's words about Maureen and her not wanting another fighter in the family. It seemed that there would be just another fighter in the family but the battles she would have to fight would be invisible and secret ones. One measure she would take immediately was informing Geoffrey of what happened today. He would believe her and he would launch the first measures to convince a certain sisterhood that the time of immunity had just ended.

But meanwhile she had a few sisters to reassure. And to teach in basic anti-sorcery.

* * *

"You are sure?"

Geoffrey's voice was the coldest thing Mary had ever heard. He had been very calm during the first part of her speech. She already admired her sister's husband but now she was much better understanding what it was that made him exceptional.

At no moment while she explained what she had discovered about herself and her gift had he shown surprise. Geoffrey d'Arcy was a man whose self-control was extraordinary and whose acceptation of the world's many facets was more than refreshing.

At no moment had he doubted her words even if she was herself not totally sure what it was she was becoming! He had just accepted her words because he knew she was telling the truth.

"I saw her doing it," she answered. "There is no doubt about what she was doing. I don't know how she was able to instill herself into Jane's aura but she was clearly working at weakening her."

"What would have been the consequences?"

"Innumerable health problems" answered Mary. "And no cure could have helped because it was coming from the soul's inside…"

"Would she have died?"

"We all die one day" came the soft answer. "But probably not; because Jane has now the means to rebuild her health as she goes along. But she would have been plagued by constant weakness and bad health. Her pregnancy would have been difficult and even if we would have saved her and the kids it would have been a real torture…"

"Was it meant to be?"

Mary could only nod while making a face.

"She herself had given Jane the means to survive to the worst conditions. As it was built it was meant to harm her for a very long time."

Geoffrey sighed.

"Thanks to have saved her, Mary… I'm in your eternal debt."

"She's my sister and she's happy at your side! Just go on making her happy and it'll be my pleasure to come to her help as often as necessary. Don't forget that since I have discovered that God has given me the means to counter the blackest of evil, it was my duty and, in this case more than in others, it was my pleasure."

"Thanks nevertheless, by saving her you saved me and my sanity and as you probably know an insane d'Arcy is a bad omen for the world."

Mary took her courage in both hands and closed the distance between her and d'Arcy. She embraced him and looked him in the eyes.

"You're the most controlled man I have ever encountered. Even Géraud whose self-control is commendable is not at par with you. I'm quite sure you wouldn't snap to become the monster you fear. Which is not the same as staying calm and forgiving. I feel your anger bubbling like a volcano under your outer controlled self. I know that it is also my duty to keep that anger in check while Jane is smothering it under her love." She smiled at d'Arcy whose eyes were showing a fear she knew was born out of love. "She's my beloved sister and she's the most caring and forgiving creature in the world. God placed her in your Path, Geoffrey, to redeem your soul and to nurture you back to your humanity. It is quite normal that your old masters should try to get you back on the path of darkness. They couldn't lure her to be one of them so they had no choice but to try and destroy her. It was my privilege to have received the means to be able to warp their efforts."

"I'll destroy them" hissed d'Arcy.

"No you won't" said Mary with a smile but with steel in her voice. "Not yet at least. We will destroy them in due course, if they persist! But to do that with a real chance of success I need to be ready. And quite now I'm not! It would be foolish to strike too soon because of that anger that is burning inside of you and that is their best weapon to get you back in their mold. I don't know if you suspect it but that what had been done was not predominantly launched to hurt Jane but to anger you enough to throw you back into the path of evil." She smiled at his hard face. "Jane was God's tool to lure you out of evilness. Let's not let them use her to undo what light has done. Even if I'm not ready to launch an attack, I'm more than ready to protect those I love. I know now what to look for; they won't get another chance to harm any of the people I look after. We will have time to prepare our movement or to record their surrender."


	76. Family Matters

**Chapter seventy-six: London**

* * *

**London, Thursday the 1****st**** of November**

* * *

"Charles, may I speak to you?"

Charles Bingley smothered a sigh and put his coat back into his butler's hands. Slowly he turned around and looked into the –surprisingly- fearful eyes of his youngest sister.

"Of course you may, Caroline" he answered. He looked at his butler and made a little gesture with his head. "Please send somebody to the Company and let Edward Gardiner know that I'll be late this morning."

The butler nodded and turned around.

"You don't have to send excuses, you are perhaps only the junior partner but you are still one of the directors!" grumbled Caroline.

"I don't make excuses, sister, I inform a friend because I know he would worry if I fail to give him news. I do it out of consideration for him not because I feel obliged to!" He took her hand and pulled her toward his study. "What can I do for you, Caroline?"

She looked toward the chairs and that gesture confirmed Charles in his suspicions.

"It's about that old hag…"

"If she hears you using those words while speaking of her, you'll regret it, you know?"

"Of course I know" cried she out as soon as the door was closed. "I regret every second of her presence. I want you to get rid of her!"

Charles smiles while sitting in his office chair.

"Why don't you give me some fresh news? You want to get rid of her since she appeared here and saying it twenty times a day hasn't changed a thing about her being here and you being upset because of it."

Caroline moved her hand towards Charles crystal favorite decanter but he was faster and grabbed it before her.

"Please don't smash my favorite things, sister. It won't increase the chances to get what you want if you persist to destroy half the things in my home."

"I can't stand her anymore! She drives me crazy…"

Charles took great care not to let his inner feelings be seen on his face. In his opinion Caroline under the same roof as Ma Biorna was a much easier sister than Caroline alone. But saying that wouldn't have helped.

"Do you want to go back to our Country House? I can organize your journey within hours."

"No I don't want to go back North! I want to stay in London but I can't stand being treated like a little girl!"

"She's our grandmother and she is a Clan Leader. I fear you won't get her to change her ways. It would be better to change yours as she asks for."

"I'm not an uneducated brat!"

"Yes you are…" came Ma's voice coming from the door. Charles took great care not to smile but their grandmother was very skilled at moving silently. And being at the right place at the right moment. "You are a shame for the family and I thank the Gods every day that your father had changed his name. I couldn't bear to be put in relation with England's most impolite and preposterous brat!"

Caroline's frustrated outcry was very similar to that of an upset and angry feline.

Charles hand grabbed her just in time to hold her back. In the hysteric mood she was in she would have tried to hit Ma and everybody in the house knew how that would have ended.

"Let go of me" screeched she. But he was firm and strengthened his hold. Caroline wasn't his favorite human person but he took no pleasure in seeing her being humiliated as would have been the case if he had let her go near their grandmother. Grandmother who had 'forgotten' to close the door of the study.

_Time to show who's the master of this house._

"Stop it immediately!" he shouted in his most stentorian like voice, or like Kitty called it his savage Irish outcry. "We've had this discussion once a day for a week, now it ends!" He looked at his sister. "You will show our grandmother the respect due or I'll send you back North within the hour!" Then he turned toward his grandmother. "And you, you will stop trying to undo Caroline's bad education…"

"Bad education?"

"…You know as well as I that it is a waste of time as the previous scenes have repeatedly demonstrated. I want you to stop your little war and begin to behave like civilized well educated people! If that should be impossible I'll just take my things and go live with his Majesty at Darcy House! There at least I will be able to live among civilized and well educated females and without having to witness the females of the Biorna Bingley family continuously fighting the same battle again and again." He looked anew at Caroline and finally shook his head. "What's the matter with me? Indeed I'm not going to be thrown out of my own House because my relatives are unable to behave! Ssince you are the youngest of the two protagonists I'll ask you to begin and make amends immediately…" He stopped her outcry with a threatening finger. "And I will do exactly what I said if you refuse, Caroline! You are the Granddaughter and even you should realize that respect is due to our elders. If we begin to treat them like shit, as you did the first time you saw her, we're in for a very bad surprise very soon." He locked eyes with her and frowned. "I won't repeat a third time, Caroline! I'm the master of the Bingley wealth and the man of the House. You do as I said or you're back North the day after tomorrow! And handing you out your dowry is out of the question! I won't let you squander your fortune just to be able to play for a few months more the peacock before a laughing and despising bunch of hens belonging to the ton! I'm now the best friend of what could very well be the next King of the United Kingdom. Even you should be able to overcome your hysterics to grasp that, since you are a well related rich beautiful young lady, the opportunities to find a husband who has at least Fitz' perspectives have increased a hundredfold." He lowered his voice and for the first time in his life threats passed his lips. "While in London and behaving like a Lady I'll let you chase who you want! But if you force me to ban you to the North, the family will have to find you a husband on short notice and I already know that you won't appreciate the choice…" He looked toward Ma, "…the family council will make!"

Ten seconds later Caroline was apologizing.

* * *

"Problems?"

Edward Gardiner looked at his wife and made a face.

"I don't know. I'm out of my depths here and I really have no idea about how I should answer to the odd visit I got today."

"Odd? Odd in what sense?"

"As I said: I don't know what to think. Never in my whole life would I have thought that such a thing…"

His wife was at his side a second later.

"What happened?" she said without hiding her exasperation.

"I received the strangest call, today…"

"That I already interfered. Who came to visit you?"

"Three Dukes and they were incognito…"

"Dukes? At your office. How odd…"

"Exactly what I thought" agreed Mr. Gardiner just before seeing his wife's face.

"You're laughing at me…" he complained.

"Indeed I do" answered his wife. "Why shouldn't you have Dukes to call? You're probably just now the most important man in London."

He looked at her with an amazed expression on his face.

"What are you saying, dear? There are Lebrun and d'Arcy and Fitzwilliam… Those are the important men in London. I'm only a lowly businessman."

She sighed.

"Of course you are only a lowly businessman, but if you look at your income, I'm quite sure that you are richer than those three Dukes even if they pool their resources. And whatever happens in the coming months, you'll still be at the head of Britain's greatest and richest business company. Lebrun and Geoffrey will probably be abroad and Fitzwilliam burdened by his royal responsibilities. You are the focal point. If they succeed to enter into a friendly relationship with you they'll have a bridgehead into Geoffrey's and Fitzwilliam's families. By befriending you they give themselves the security of having bet on the winner."

She could see that he still wasn't convinced.

"What else could they have done, Edward? If I remember well they are here in London against Geoffrey's express ruling. So they couldn't really call on him, now could they? Same for Lebrun who is perhaps not the initiator of their banishment but he would at the least send them back if they would appear before him. And you know Fitzwilliam, calling on him would be an embarrassment for him. No, you were the perfect person to call. What did they want?"

He made a non-committal face.

"I don't know" he said with a shrug. "They came, they complimented me for the great work the company was doing in London, they asked a few questions about what we envision to do in the future and they made a few allusions at their estates –that's how I know that I had Dukes in front of me- and after half an hour of empty chitchat, they left without asking for anything."

"Alright, they tested you. How were they when they left?"

"Smiling and relaxed…" he said after having thought a few seconds. "They asked if they could come back and I assured them that they would, of course, be free to call as often as they wished."

His wife sighed a second time.

"Well at least they were satisfied" she said. "And be sure that they'll come back; When it happens, dear, please remember that you are no longer a lowly businessman but perhaps the next King's Uncle. I know it is not the same as a title but for the time being it is much more valuable than all titles of England! Because what you have you'll still have in one year time. If we end up a Republic, imagine what their titles will be worth!"


	77. Staff Meeting

**Chapter seventy-seven: London Staff meeting**

* * *

**London, Friday the 2****nd**** of November**

* * *

"What's this?" asked Fitzwilliam while looking at the crowd of uniformed men besieging Darcy House. "You're organizing maneuvers?"

Richard looked at his cousin and smiled.

"Not yet but that's probably the next step! With all those officers flocking around you we'll have to do something to rebuild an army who is worth its dam and maneuvers would give us a good insight in what they are worth."

"Too many officers if you ask me," said Lydia who was surveying the little crowd from another window. "Good for your next Ball, brother, but for maneuvers you'll need a few more soldiers…"

"And since when are you a specialist in military matters, Miss Bennet" grumbled Richard who was rather sensitive about England's military.

"Since I'm the sister in law of Europe's most successful strategist," came the immediate and pert answer. "I've asked him why our armies had been crushed and he gave me a few interesting answers."

"He did?" Richard didn't like the shrillness he was discovering in his voice. For unknown reasons he was rather more upset than he should be by his cousin's remark.

"Indeed he did, cousin. You should ask him, you could perhaps discover how to build a successful army?"

"We have successful armies, we don't need his advice. Our problem was that they are just on the other side of the world winning victories over Indian armies."

Lydia came over and frowned at the cousins.

"What use are armies who are not able to defend your homeland?" She saw the general open his mouth to answer but she cut him out with a swift gesture.

"I'm not trying to blame your leadership, cousin, I'm just stating facts. We were defended by a few thousand militia soldiers commanded by officers like George Wickham who, if dashing and well spoken, was not the most experienced officer I would have liked at the head of English troops." She made a face. "Not to mention that he was on d'Arcy's payroll!"

"For which he should be shot…" grumbled Richard.

"You know very well you can't do that, cousin" countered Lydia. "He's a Darcy and putting him to trial would have very negative effects on the family's honor and Fitzwilliam's future. He's a rogue and a liar but he's protected by his name against anything overt against him." She pointed toward the newspapers where George Darcy's exploits were still commented and lauded. "Not to mention that with his last anti-French actions he's bought himself the best of post-war virginity available." She smiled at the cousins. "In his very dark and twisted way he's quite a genius in his own right. Three months ago he was just a traitor in d'Arcy's pocket and now he's London's most wanted and admired English hero."

"I won't speak about that rogue" grumbled Darcy. "My wife's awaiting me; I'll let you to your laudations of my dear brother."

And with these words he stomped away.

"He's still not happy with his father's little side step" smiled Lydia.

"Neither am I, miss Bennet" said Richard. "It really grates me that he'll never pay for what he's done."

"I'm not yet Miss Bennet, you know, General. I'll probably be the third Miss Bennet of the family but that won't be before next year I suppose. For now I'm only poor Miss Lydia Bennet the silliest girl of the United Kingdom."

Richard looked her in the eyes and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"You were perhaps the silliest girl of Great Britain but let me tell you that you've made great progress since I saw you for the first time…"

"Oohh" said Lydia with an eye flutter. "And you like said progress?"

For an eternity they looked at each other in silence.

"I do, miss Bennet, I do…" said he finally.

* * *

The servants had found a hundred chairs that had been aligned in the Darcy House Ball room. Now they were all occupied by officers of different ranks. From a few colonels in the front ranks to a lot of lieutenants in the back ranks.

"You'll have to go out and speak to them" said Lizzie. "They are here because of the rumors…"

"Rumors spread by my brothers' henchmen, I'm sure" grumbled Darcy.

"Their origins are of no importance, cousin" said the general. "What's important is their existence! The whole of London is full of the Darcy exploits! You and your brother are the most popular men in Great Britain for the time being and, if Geoffrey can be trusted, if George is the most romantic hero you are the man they trust, admire and respect. The man who fought to force the French to let us free."

Darcy sighed.

"I did nothing of the sort," he whispered. "I feel like a fraud!"

Richard shot an angry look at Lizzie who smiled back with a resigned look on her face. Fitzwilliam Darcy was the most honest man around. They would have to do with his qualities and defaults.

"Let's do this" said Richard pulling the King of Wales behind him. "Let's get over with!"

They all stood when they walked into the ball room and Lizzie was very proud to see all doubts disappear from her husband's face to show what Lydia called very unrespectfully his King Face. It was unrespectful but it was accurate.

"Sit gentlemen" ordered Richard. They all sat in perfect order.

Fitzwilliam shot a last glance to his wife who answered with an encouraging smile before the three of them faced the room.

"I'm glad to have the occasion to speak to you" began Darcy. "I'm not a military man…" He smiled. "Let's say I'm the Darcy who's not a military genius and as such I'll have to put my trust in old warhorses like my cousin Fitzwilliam." They snickered and it didn't sound as if they did it out of politeness. "And said old warhorse was adamant that I had to see you. I wasn't so sure since I'm, as of now, only the King of Wales and, as such, without any authority over officers who are not of Welsh Nationality." He signed while smiling at the men before him. "But there are those rumors which see me taking over the Crown of England and Great Britain. I'm not interested but I'll do my duty if fate should place me in that uncomfortable position. So let's play the role and let me explain how I see the future of England's army in the case the worst should happen."

He took a long breath.

"I'm not proud of what happened three months ago and I have spent quite a long time mulling about what happened to us. I had even the specific insight of my brother in law who was very forthcoming with critical judgments about the way we fought. I didn't like it but it was useful. But all in all I came to the conclusion that, even if we had had a real army prepped up to fight against an invader we would have lost nevertheless. It would have cost us thousands of dead soldiers and, probably, the destruction of a great part of our infrastructure. We would have come out of that fight as defeated as now but with much less to begin anew with!" He saw the frowns and let his eyes wander over the little crowd. "Don't take it wrong, I would have preferred an honorable defeat to the series of routs we got ourselves served! But if I should be the one who has to build up a new Great Britain I prefer the present situation to what we would have if we had had a real experienced army which would have fought for every square inch of English territory. Not to say that if the French would have lost thousands of soldiers to get our country they would have been so much more reluctant to let us go." He took a long breath. "So let's bygones be bygones! We were caught unprepared and that cost us a humiliating defeat." He stopped to get their attention. "That won't happen again! Great Britain will never again be without an experienced army on his soil and Great Britain will give herself the means to be a military power!"

He made a sign toward Richard who uncovered a map of the world that showed the possessions of all European and non-European Countries around the world.

"We are the reds!" said Darcy and that affirmation was welcomed with cheers. "And as you see we've lost a few territories particularly in America! But as you can see we are not totally expelled of that continent and I'm determined to maintain our presence there and even to increase our military presence in the Western Territories. You see France's blue occupying a large part of the Northern Continent. I intend to make sure that what's not blue, yellow or grey now takes as soon as possible a healthy red hue!" That brought a few more cheers out of the lesser ranking officers. "It won't be easy because we don't have a real sea port, not anymore, but as of now we are the only European power that has a prospect in America. That prospect will force us to invest there in men and funds. And we will do what's necessary to stay and prosper! We will build a sea port and we will establish relations with the natives based on trust and good will. We will endure and we will grow back to our former might!"

A hand was lifted in one of the middle ranks.

"Yes captain" shouted the general.

The captain stood up and bowed toward them. Which was a fine diplomatic gesture.

"We've heard that your brother in law wanted to create an Empire in Northern America. Will it not be difficult for us to compete against his experienced armies?"

"It would be" agreed Darcy. "If he still would have that prospect. For what I know and I can't guarantee he hasn't lied to me to assuage my doubts, he won't have much longer the Irish armies at his disposal. They will quit Ireland this winter to sail toward the Mediterranean Sea. My brother in law will continue to supervise the development of French America but it will be from France. It seems the First Consul has others campaigns in mind than American ones."

"Turkey?" asked somebody from the lesser ranks.

"It seems so but I wouldn't bet a shilling on it because everybody from here to China must have heard of that goal by now. And, if I judge by the degree of secrecy d'Arcy managed to maintain before both his English and Irish landings, we should look somewhere else! Luckily we have already been invaded by him so we should be safe this time!" The roar of laugh this remark got him was a real relief. He wasn't sure how they would react to that little pun. They could have taken it as a criticism and not a witticism… As soon as they stopped laughing he launched his last comment. "And we will make sure that there won't be another time, ever!"

This time they all stood up and cheered and Darcy felt his wife's hand slipping into his. He squeezed it and he felt her approval even without looking at her. He made a sign to Richard who, after having let die the cheers took the floor to disclose what would be England's military policy in the next few years.

* * *

"That went well" said Richard a few hours later when he was with Darcy sipping a port wine in Fitzwilliam's study.

"Better than I thought" agreed Darcy. "I still don't understand why they accepted what we had to announce. We had no legitimacy to even allude to those questions."

Richard snickered into his glass.

"You still don't get, do you? These men have been without leader for months now. They were craving to hear stout words about the future, about what we were going to do and more than everything else they wanted to see what you were looking like."

"And they were..?"

"Impressed of course" laughed Richard. "What else? You are the most impressive man I have ever encountered –that's before I met our dear French cousin, of course- and everybody seeing you will be as impressed as I was and these officers were!"

He stood up and tapped on his cousins shoulder.

"Man you are so dumb from time to time. You have the same charisma as d'Arcy, man! Just yours is kinder, peace fuller, you don't scare the shit out of people. When they have spoken to you they are reassured, they know that you care for them, that you are a man who's not going to throw their lives away because he's unable to see the great picture. All in all you did great even after dear cousin showed up…"

"He angered them…"

"Of course he did and I knew he would, that's why I invited him to come!"

Darcy looked at Richard with amazed eyes.

"You invited him to come? But why?"

Richard snickered.

"To show them the difference between you, that's why. Until he was there they were prudent in their judgment. I was feeling that they liked what they saw but they were wondering how you would weather a storm. So I organized a storm! And you weathered it perfectly. Even more so because of your wife's support. They liked her little word dueling with d'Arcy quite a lot. Now they know that the King's…" He stopped Darcy's outcry with a strong gesture, "Consort is not only pretty, but witty and fearless. Now they know that your wife won't hinder you in taking tough decisions but that she will stand up to fight at your side."

Darcy couldn't help but shake his head.

"I was at the brink of losing my self-control, Richard. His attitude spoke volumes about what he was thinking about England's army and officers; I'm very surprised none of those officers stood up to challenge him."

"That's because indignation gives you only so much courage! The truth: he scared them shitless. He does that very efficiently. They all knew the second he came in the room that they were facing a mighty predator who was not only a great strategist but a warrior in his own right." Richard shook his head and smiled. "You know Fitz we 'modern' soldiers despise those old-fashioned warrior types. Because we, thanks to our better organization and discipline, are so much more effective than they are. But we all know that face to face each of those warriors will just snuff us out like the delicate candle flame we are. Our strength lies in organization and strict obedience to orders. But all in all we are no longer skilled fighters. We are skilled soldiers but in most cases our hand to hand combat skills are just non-existent against those of a warrior. And d'Arcy is the archetype of the warrior. You just have to see him move and you instantly know that alone you don't stand a chance against him. And he has that presence that makes you shiver when he looks at you." He shouted out with pleasure. "No, all in all it was perfect! And you stood your ground without a frown! That was the icing on the cake. You won all of them over when you defended them. And since it was visible that his presence and attitude was angering you it had even more effect on them."

"You could have asked if I wanted him here…"

"What for? I knew the answer to that question so it was better not to ask you, Fitz. Your brother played his role, as usual, perfectly." Richard sighed heavily. "God, cousin, I'd give my left arm to be able to fight at his side or under his command. I wasn't in Paris and so I have only your comments on Napoleon but I really doubt anybody on earth can be more impressive that that cousin of ours!" He looked at his cousin. "You should speak to Jane: we need that man to stay with us! The French has the Corsican, let's have our Nordman!"

"He despises me, Richard. I feel it…" said Darcy under his breath. "I couldn't stand his being close."

Richard shot a surprised look at his cousin.

"You should begin to become used to his presence, Fitz. Because I don't know how he will do it but there's a man who wants his wife to be happy! I see that the only way for Jane to be perfectly happy is to have her husband and your wife in close proximity. So I'm quite sure that this particular conjunction will happen one way or the other. I just hope Lizzie being a widow is not part of what he is preparing!"

* * *

"I have seen your little show, this afternoon" said Jane while brushing her hair. "Why is it necessary for you to be so contemptuous while with Fitzwilliam?"

"I don't want him hero worshiping me! The second I stop grating on his nerves like I do, he will be lost and won't ever be able again to make a decision without asking for my counsel. We need him his own man, Jane, not my happy lapdog. I've tried to be his older brother type and it was very clear that he was just waiting on it. He's so full of doubts that while I'm at his side and willing to help he won't take a decision alone." He looked at his wife and his face showed worry. "We can't afford to have him look like my trusted underling. Not before the treaty and even less now. I want him to be one of the players in the game I've launched. If he appears as my liege he won't earn the respect of the people I need him to convince."

"It hurts him" said Maureen from the bathroom. "Even I, who has the sensitivity of a butcher, sees it."

"No you have not…" protested Jane while d'Arcy was answering.

"I know" whispered d'Arcy. "But sometimes it is necessary to hurt somebody you esteem or even love in order to get the grand picture in motion."

"Has this Grand Picture of yours to do with the Crown of England?" asked Jane.

"Of course it has. What other Grand Picture can there be in London just after the signing of the Peace Treaty? I have my candidate and I will do my utmost to get him on that throne."

"He doesn't want that throne, Geoffrey. Why force it onto him?"

"My candidate is the best thing that could happen to Britain, that's why, dear. Edward Gardiner, Charles and I are creating what's necessary to give the next King the best chances to shape an even stronger Empire than the one France is right now building. He will have the best infrastructure, the most modern industries, the best regime and enough wealth to construct the best foundations possible. What is now still open is the dynasty that will be able to be crowned. I have an exact idea of which dynasty it will be and…" he looked at his wife, "even if you don't agree with my choice, that's one point where even your lovely nagging won't make me change my mind!"

"I never nag…" said she with a frown.

"Of course not, _mon amour_. My tongue slipped…"

She joined him in the bed and soon his arms closed around her.

"Forgive me, love, if my schemes trouble you but it is necessary!"


	78. News

**Chapter seventy-eight: London Parental News**

* * *

**London, Saturday the 3****rd**** of November**

* * *

"Mama and Papa are coming back…" said Jane while reading the first of the letters the consular post has delivered. "With luck they could even be here this evening."

Lizzie frowned.

"Did they give a reason why they postponed their 'Tour de France'? Last we saw them in Paris, they were so decided to spend the next weeks touring your estates."

"No, there's nothing about the why in their letter. They just inform us of their coming back." She smiled at Lizzie. "They have probably thought about Mary and Kitty. They have without a doubt remembered their own impatience while waiting to get married. It would have been quite unpleasant to force Mary and Kitty to wait till their return next spring. I suppose once our sisters married and Christmas behind us they'll be so much freer to follow their desires while visiting France." She closed the letter and handed it to Lizzie. "Whatever, we'll know soon now!"

* * *

Geoffrey d'Arcy was worried.

And, as usual, the cause of his worries was his wife. He had taken Mary's information with all the seriousness of a man whose earlier life has been surrounded and permeated with rituals and 'magical' spells. He had sent out a few of his most trusted agents to 'sniff' out the case and the lack of any hint coming his way even after a day was worrisome. Clearly the Duchess knew how to hide in clear sight.

He would have to take other measures. Measures he had postponed for a long time but now, with Jane having been attacked, he could no longer pretend that those 'powers' were only figments of his imagination.

He took his paper and his brush and began to write to his agent at Hangzhou. It would take a few months before the team he was calling in would arrive and meanwhile a lot of events would have unfolded. He knew that raising from the dead that old alias was a risky business. Because some of his old enemies would probably seek him out as soon as his agent would sell out the news of his return to said enemies. It would bring back on the stage some people he would better never have seen again but as for now he had no choice and the situation was clearly no longer in the favor of his enemies. Now he would be on his turf and he would have the best resources. It wouldn't be easy but when they would finally arrive everything would be in place and Jane would be as safe as was humanly possible.

He nodded to himself.

It wouldn't be easy but then when in his whole life has it been easy? And now he had three marvelous reasons to go on fighting his enemies. Upon their arrival he would be ready and decade old feuds would, finally, find their conclusions.

* * *

"He does it on purpose" said Abercranby while smiling at his King.

"What do you mean on purpose?"

Abercranby guffawed. "As in 'on purpose'…" he insisted. "He feels probably that you are in a hero worshipping mood and he does what has to be done to snap you out of it. And playing with your pride is a wonderful tool to upset you, ô my King!"

"You're laughing at me, my Lord! That's not very considerate."

Abercranby couldn't help but laugh louder.

"My King, I appreciate you very much and I'm very proud to have been able to convince a man like you to quit his little quiet world he was so happy having to enter into the cesspool of politics. With you my hopes for a better more just and kinder Great Britain, came back after years of smothering them. But I want you conscious of what happens around you. And your brother in law is playing you like a fiddle and it upsets me even if he does it to protect you against yourself."

"Protect you against myself?"

"Indeed, my King. Stop lying at yourself and, for just a few minutes, give yourself the luxury of frankness." He came to Darcy and looked him in the eyes. "If I ask one question and demand a trustful answer, will you accept my challenge?"

Darcy closed his eyes and nodded.

"Don't even ask you question" he sighed. "Your first sentence gave you up…" He looked up and made a face. "I'm not hero worshipping him… Not really…"

"I spoke of frankness, Fitzwilliam" whispered Abercranby. "If I don't see here a serious case of hero worship, I don't know what happened to my wits." He placed his hands on Darcy's shoulders. "Believe it or not, I'm myself in a serious case of hero worship! But I'm aware of it and I use my knowledge of it to force myself to rethink everything which could have been twisted by my emotions. And I need you to do just the same. I need you to be able to know what the people surrounding you are doing and why they are doing it. Your brother in law has its own agendas and I'm not as sure as you that making you King of Wales was his prospect to begin with. And now he is ostensibly playing you as his designated candidate to be King of England?. With everything such an affirmation will bear as oppositions? It's not at all how I feel he usually ticks. Nobody should be sure about his candidate; there should still be doubts about what he really wants. Amazingly he did what had to be done to convince everybody that he wants you on the English Throne. And that's, for me, too obvious."

Darcy frowned.

"As you know, I don't like _that_ perspective but who else could he sponsor to protect his and his wife's interests here in England? He had proven at plenty occasions that family isn't a hollow concept to him! So I can't say it amazes me that it looks like he wants me as King."

Abercranby shook his head.

"I don't know but let's not put aside too fast that the possibility exists that he is pulling everybody's legs to get them to concentrate on you while he is placing his assets somewhere else. In any other circumstances I would have bet that he is playing us to get him on the throne but we all know that is impossible. Even if he is," he made an apologizing gesture in direction of Darcy who granted him the right with a nod, "the best King material available, he will never be able to get the British support necessary to grab the Throne. Everybody in Great Britain admires him and worships his wife but even with all those outstanding advantages speaking in his favor he is still seen, even more, he presents himself as, Napoleon's trustworthy minion. And that is a capital sin here in England!"

"Who else could he sponsor?" asked Darcy. "If he is really interested in this coronation business and he won't get the throne even if everybody is convinced that he would be perfect for the job I see only one candidate emerging from the crowd…"

Abercranby nodded.

"You! Indeed it is what comes afore and even if I'd love to see you get the Crown I can't help but think that it is not oblique enough an approach for your brother. He is preparing something and I just happen to be too daft to see through his schemes."

It was Darcy's turn to snicker.

"Listen to you, my Lord. He's getting at you like he gets at me! You're so sure that his way of thinking must be sneaky and treacherous that you doubt the simple truth when you see it just because it isn't d'Arcyesque enough? I will be careful not to let him manipulate me any longer, I promise." He took the elder man's hand and squeezed it. "And indeed I do admire that son of…" He stopped after what he had learned about d'Arcy's mother was everything but unseemly. "And I won't let that admiration cloud my judgment anymore. But you must accept that, from time to time, even a sneaky bastard like him will choose simplicity just because it is more efficient!"

Abercranby made a face.

"Perhaps you are right, but I won't lower my guard and let him out of my sight. He's after something, Fitzwilliam and I won't be at ease until I know what it is…"

* * *

All the sisters were once more gathered in the same room. Georgiana was of course present since it was more and more evident to all participants that she was one of them. And if the first time she had felt a little awkward, she soon had found that being with the sisters was helping her a lot to gain confidence and self-esteem.

"I've gathered you because I have two interesting news," said Jane as soon as they were all sitting. "First Mama and Papa will arrive around ten o'clock this night on the incoming Courier Ship from Rouen. I don't know why they have chosen to interrupt their 'tour' but I'm quite certain that their presence will hasten a few weddings we feared couldn't be organized for quite some time…"

That remark was welcomed with happy laughs, bright smiles and a pair of blushes.

"We will, of course, be on the quay when they arrive." She looked at Georgiana. "You are welcome to be at our side, Georgiana. Not only because of the arrival of our parents but because of my second announcement." She took a long and deep breath. "My dear husband has informed me, incidentally of course, that a certain Thomas Howard, Viscount Andover had boarded on the same ship and should arrive at exactly the same hour." She winked at Georgiana. "Of course in any other universe where my husband wouldn't be, his using the same ship as Papa and Mama would be looked at as a coincidence. With Geoffrey having probably organized the both of those journeys I'm quite sure that said Viscount will have had plenty opportunities to get better acquainted with at least Papa. So I feel it my duty to forewarn you Georgiana that my husband has taken your affairs into his very crafty hands. I don't know if it is a good sign or a bad omen but as they say, forewarned is forearmed and you'll probably need the time I'm giving you to prepare yourself for what's coming your way."


	79. Worries

**Chapter seventy-nine: London**

* * *

**London, Sunday the 4****th**** of November**

* * *

"Could we speak, Jane?"

She looked at her father and nodded. He had been weird the evening before and she hadn't believed a word about his travel tiredness. Something was eating at him and by the way he was looking at her she was involved in what was troubling him.

"Let's go to my favorite study" she answered. "Lizzie will join us but not before ten o'clock… Will it be enough?"

"I hope so" said her father while inviting her to lead. He knew where Lizzie and Jane met the last time they were together at the Palace but that was quite a few weeks ago they had probably found better places to gather.

Soon he had the confirmation that they were indeed meeting at another place.

The study was cozier and he could see that it had been arranged to meet his daughters' likes.

"What's bothering you papa? Why did you interrupt your 'tour' to come back so early?"

He swallowed and closed his eyes. How could he speak about it without seeming to reproach her what was happening. He took a long breath to steady himself and jumped into the fray.

"It's about your husband's mistress…"

Jane didn't flinch.

"There is no mistress" she answered in a very calm voice. "If you allude to Maureen the technical term is concubine and it was my decision to propose her that arrangement. And I'm more than happy that she accepted…"

Her father looked at her with more than amazement in his eyes. Clearly he was unable to understand what she had just said.

"You can't just accept that he keeps his Mistress under your own roof… It's…"

"What I want!" And for the first time in his life he could witness what Jane could become if she was pushed to her limits. What d'Arcy called the most beautiful warrior on Earth. She wasn't threatening or bullying, she was just the archetype of decidedness and will. "And I won't let anybody dictate me how I live my life!"

He couldn't help but sit back into his armchair.

"But, Jane…"

"Let me speak, Papa, I will try to explain why it is necessary. More than necessary: it is how things must be in order to give me, Geoffrey and Maureen the groundwork we need!"

She sighed, stood up and went to the window to look at the Gardens.

"When I married Geoffrey I was, in a lot of matters, very immature." She shot her father a smile. "It's not a reproach, it's only an observation. And I'm so glad that I could arrive to my wedding night so…" She hesitated. "Naïve… And my husband was the epitome of kindness and delicacy. He used every parcel of his experience with women to give me the marvelous gift of making me a satisfied woman and happy wife." She blushed and, as usual, Edward Bennet could only notice that his daughter was at her highest in beauty and charm when she was expressing what she felt. "And for quite a few weeks I took his science and his kindness like a starved urchin. And it was so marvelous; I can't find words to express it. I ceased to be a naive girl to become a very possessive wife."

She shook her head and stopped looking at the empty Gardens to come back and sit in front of her father.

"Without knowing it I was slowly sliding into something which, had I not had Maureen's gift, could very well have altered me into becoming another copy of a hysteric possessive wife…" She invited him to conclude and he nodded his understanding.

"Like you mother…"

"Indeed, like Mama" she agreed while alleviating her words with a smile. "Don't take it wrongly, Papa. I love mother with all my heart but I hate what despair and fear had made of her. And despair and fear are the only rewards for possessiveness and jealousy."

She bent toward her father and took his hands in hers.

"And then I made my little stunt before that Irish bloodthirsty crowd and Maureen saved my life. More, Maureen gave her life in exchange for mine and without certain drugs she would now be a memory and a pike in my guilty heart!"

She closed her eyes and her face became grave and serious.

"And, even while under drugs and having fainted, I remembered what she confessed to Geoffrey in what she knew was her deathbed." She opened her eyes and her normal smiling face was back. "I know now that it was God's will that I could listen to Maureen's confession. That I could listen to the most powerful declaration of love a human being can ever utter was a redemption for me. I looked at myself and what I saw was a nasty surprise because my first envy had been to send her away, to push her out of Geoffrey's life, to ensure that he was mine and mine only!" She sighed lengthily. "I didn't like what I saw. I didn't like it at all! And so I decided to ask Mama about her, you and your mistresses…"

He had difficulties to stay calm. How could she know? How..?

"She was honest and spoke about what she had done to you, what she had done to herself and how she was, on a mental level, understanding why you had to take mistresses…"

"There weren't so many of them…" he whispered. "There were only two and it didn't last." He snickered. "I'm way too lazy to live such a complicated life. Lying isn't my most efficient failure. I had needs but following them made me sicker than smothering them. So I stopped seeing them…"

"You're not at trial, Papa. I know life wasn't easy for you even if you never had, as I never had, to face real soul shattering problems. We look at our little domestic problems and we give them a size out of proportion with their real importance. We drown in details and we forget to see the Great Picture." She granted her father with her most loving smile. "We spoke of love, Mama and I. And she convinced me that love is not a pie to be divided but a light to be shared. And the more light enters your life, the more said life becomes easy to understand and to accept."

She let herself sit back in her armchair and her eyes lost their focus.

"I convinced Geoffrey to give Maureen what she was dying not to have. He would have sent her away, with a royal income and everything she would have asked for… And we would have killed her as surely as if we would have shot her in the head. So I asked him to share his love with her." She laughed. "He, being a man and being a rather arrogant and full of himself specimen of the male part of the species, was much easier to convince than she." She shook her head while smiling. "You can't begin to imagine what I went through to convince that lovely Irish Catholic soul that it wouldn't award her immediate damnation! Finally her craving was stronger than her fear and she accepted my gift. And since then we three are much happier than ever before. She is happier because having never been happy in her whole life it gives her a base upon which she's finally able to build her life. He is happier because, even if he loves me madly, he never ceased to feel guilty about the way he used Maureen to stay sane. I am happier because I was able to award to the woman who never hesitated to exchange her life for mine what she needed to survive and heal. I am happier because, even if I didn't understand it in that way when I proposed that arrangement, I gave my husband a new way to deal with his soul shattering problems…"

She saw her father's frown.

"How so?"

She searched for her words.

"It's difficult to explain, Papa. But it is vital for important mighty men to have human beings surrounding them. That's why all kings have courts. Not only Ministers and Counselors but people who seem to just be there to suck them out…" She fretted and lightly bit her lips. "It's not a one way relation, you know, those people get advantages from the King, mostly money and charges, but in return they shoulder a part of the King's poisoned burden. They are parasites but like all parasites they don't only get the good part of the blood they suck but they partake also in the King's bad blood. By doing that they are allowing him to be longer at the peak of his power. The mightier the King the larger the pool of courtiers he'll need."

"I must admit that I never looked at a court in such a light. It could be that you are right. But what has it to do with Geoffrey and you?"

"It has everything to do because Geoffrey has the power and the responsibilities of a King but since he is not a ruler in the legal term he has no court and so his only way to dispatch what would otherwise smother him comes in two ways: waging war or increasing the pool of women who love him."

"What do you mean; the pool of women who love him? You don't envision getting him other concubines, do you?"

"If it is necessary for his survival or his sanity, I won't hesitate a second, Papa. I'm the wife he chose to bind to him in all manners possible. I'll be the one in charge of finding those able to love him but unable to harm us."

"You can't be serious dear, it's not only immoral; it is amoral!"

"It is necessary" she said in a tone he had encountered only minutes before. "You can't judge our relationships in the light of normal people, Papa. Geoffrey and I we embrace powers that are at levels you could have touched if you'd had the possibility to marry Caroline. These powers need outlets or they will eat us, destroy us. My outlet is love and, till now, Geoffrey's was war and conquest. I will, if I'm successful, be taking war and conquest away from him so I have to give him something else to compensate. And love is the only thing I understand completely. Love I have in infinite proportions. Love I know how to weave and control. So my tool will be love and my helpers will be women who are completely in love with my husband."

Edward Bennet shook, once more, his head.

"I don't understand, dear…"

"I'm sorry about that, Papa. The only thing you have to know is that what happens in Geoffrey's love life is ruled by me. He will still be able to manipulate the rest of the world but when it comes to that very private part of our life, I'm the one in charge. I appreciate that you came back to protect me, Papa, but you really don't need to worry for me! In that particular matter, I know what must be done and it will be done even if it shocks common morality."

* * *

"He cares for you…" said Geoffrey a few hours later just after his wife had told him what her daughter-father talk had been about.

"I know" answered Jane. "But I'm a little disappointed to discover him so narrow-minded."

"He isn't narrow-minded" snickered her husband. "He's a father with a beautiful daughter who seems to be prey to an unfaithful husband. It worries him because he knows from experience what a failed marriage can produce! He did his job and whatever you've explained him he won't accept it easily. For him I'm the one responsible and it will be a long time before I can restore his trust in me. He'll wait and survey you like a hawk and if one day he sees you with swollen red eyes I'd better have a good explanation to what has made you weep or he'll shoot me!"

"Don't laugh about those things…" shivered Jane. "I couldn't live with you and my father not on good terms."

He embraced her and she felt Maureen's arms embracing her from behind.

"It's his call now, dear" whispered d'Arcy. "I wasn't convinced at first but now I know that you were right." He smiled at Maureen who was just behind his wife. "We three are stronger and happier together and I know now I won't be able to ever renounce!"

Jane looked at him with teary eyes and an ironic smile.

"And it has nothing to do with your swollen male ego, of course?"

"Of course not, love, I'm a very open-minded male of the species and my ego is well under control…" he disagreed while letting his tongue catching her tears. She find herself finally relaxing and decided that just basking in his loving attention was what she needed.


	80. Perspectives

**Chapter eighty: London Perspectives**

* * *

**London, Monday the 5****th**** of November**

* * *

"I'm more than satisfied, I'm impressed" said d'Arcy while handing the files back to Mr. Gardiner. "With these figures we will strike the necessary balance much sooner. How long till we begin making profits?"

"Next year," answered Mr. Gardiner. "And it will be entirely because of Charles' idea about regrouping the sellers in his Sellers' Islands. We will make profits as soon as we begin to collect rents. The buildings we have been given by Lebrun's administration for a more than nominal sum. We've made heavy changes to the buildings but we are our own contractors, we did it for very reasonable sums and since the concept is pleasing to the customers we will probably implant other such centers everywhere in Great Britain." He smiled. "We never thought of it but it is a way of buying the people like…"

"Not only the people who buy," added Charles, "it's even more a hit for the seller because of the new buying habits it creates. People till now just bought what they needed. Now they begin to buy things because they are seduced by them. It's a totally different way to consume…"

"Only if you have money to spend" said d'Arcy. "If you don't have it is even more a dangerous concept for poor people. If they spend their money on unnecessary items their families will suffer."

"I thought of that problem" countered Charles. "Because one of my foreman, a very interesting guy I believe we will send to one of our schools when they are ready, came to me to complain that one of his workers –it wasn't him he was really speaking for one of his men, I looked into the matter- had been pulled into buying furniture instead of the food he was sent to buy by his wife. He was strolling through the SIE of Wolcott Street when he saw a seller proposing very interesting beds –with wool mattresses- he could afford with the money he had earned. And he snapped and accepted the seller's offer to be paid in three months. So he could buy his bed and the food but for the next three months he won't be able to buy anything necessary…The foreman took the matter in his hands and gathered all the members of his work gang and theirs wives and dear ones and they spoke about what had happened. And the women found the solution. They organized a collective funding where all the workers of his gang would give five percent of their wages and that fund would be used to make loans to gang members who needed things that were out of their normal buying range. The sums loaned had to be paid back of course but not as fast as three months…" Charles smiled. "I found that idea so interesting that I hired a man I knew to manage the whole thing and to increase it to every one of our workers. And for each penny the workers put into the fund, the company puts another. So we solve two problems: we restrain the debt problems within our workers and we create a very efficient tool to create solidarity within our work force. As soon as possible I'll give the overall supervision of the 'Worker's bank' to one or more of them and they'll manage it on their own. They are right now discussing of the statutes of said WB and I'm astonished how much insight they have in the machinery of Economy."

"It's their money they are speaking about and it matters a lot for them" smiled Mr. Gardiner. "Don't underestimate the smartness of uneducated people. They are not dumb they have just been limited in their choices. Open their range of choices and you'll be surprised."

"I am" admitted Charles. "I must confess that I was rather blinded by my class prejudices. I was just…"

"Don't sweat it, Charles" interrupted d'Arcy. "You're young and it was not too late to change your views. Now that you have discovered that they are people too, you'll never forget it and what's even better, they'll never forget it neither!"

* * *

"And you cooked yourself?" asked d'Arcy who had spent the morning at Gardiner's and had been invited by his friend's wife to say and share their meal.

"Once a week I hush Cook out of the Kitchen and force myself to manufacture the food of the household. It reminds me that it is a pleasure to work with food and to cook it into something so much more pleasurable and that it is hard work to feed so many mouths."

"That's why we are here" said Jane who had appeared at Gardiner's one hour earlier with the whole Bennet tribe in tow –with a few added strangers like Emilie Duroc, Georgiana and a rather impressed looking Viscount who was wondering what exactly he was doing here- and a small army of guards and body guards. "We wouldn't fail one of aunt's meals when we are in London. It's a matter of family tradition! She chooses the day and we arrange our schedules to be able to be present." She smiled at her parents. "And it is even more a pleasure since we have, for once, the pleasure to be here with all the members of the Bennet tribe." She looked at Lizzie and Mary. "Normally the consorts and fiancés should be with us but it seems that an urgent political matter has blocked Fitzwilliam at the Palace and that the General was summoned at the London ship yards. They'll have to eat normal food today and not Aunt Gardiner's famous Mustard Sauce Beef…" She lifted her glass and smiled at her hostess. "Thanks for this superb meal, Aunt…"

All lifted their glasses and cheered the cook who acknowledged her pleasure with a curtsy and a smiling face.

* * *

"Of course they know that you are here!" said Darcy while shaking his head. "He gave me a list of all your whereabouts a few days ago! Do you really believe you were and are not under surveillance?"

"Why didn't he arrest us, then?" asked Somerset who was sitting aside Beaufort just facing Darcy.

"At the risk of spoiling his little image of good and kind benefactor?" grumbled Darcy. "Please cease to consider him in the same light as all the other rulers you know. He's an information addict. He spends more hours a day reading reports than I have to do my daily royal missions."

"What are your feelings about your brother in law?"

Darcy frowned. He wasn't sure he liked the two pears who had called upon him just before he was going to join Lizzie for their invitation at Gardiner's House. But he couldn't refuse to receive them, not if he was to survive in the political arena of present England. Not, had he thought, if he wanted to preserve his chances to become King.

_My chances to become King_… He smiled at his own defeat. His brother's schemes were now his own and he accepted this new reality with serenity. His little chat with his Prime Minister had been a real boon. He now accepted what seemed unavoidable. He was a candidate and his chances weren't bad. And these men and their pears could play a role in his designation. _One way or the other, not that it has any real importance, does it_?

"It's difficult to describe my feelings. I just happen to be the brother in law to the most outstanding man I have ever encountered. A man who's not only a master strategist, a skilled politician and a shrewd businessman but an athlete and a swashbuckler! Were he not French and a member of my family I would probably be able to accept the situation without feeling outclassed. But since he is a relative it is, from time to time, frustrating. Until a few months ago, I was _THE_ Darcy! I wasn't the most outstanding of all gentlemen but I was able to hold my ground and within the skills my father taught me, I was within the best. Then came the real thing! A d'Arcy who not only overrun your country's armies but who managed to seduce and conquer the sister of the girl I was drooling over for months. And he did it in less than two weeks! How do you compete against such odds? I tried but now I know I can't. So I'm no longer competing against him. I'm who I am and that's it. He's perhaps better than me in most areas but then how many are not in the same exact position? I was in Paris and I saw Napoleon. Even he is, from time to time, looking at d'Arcy with frustration and envy. So I consider myself in good company when I look at d'Arcy wondering if I'm going to worship him or just shoot him."

The two dukes nodded but stayed calm and didn't show any emotions.

"Do you believe he covets the Throne of England?"

"If he could take it, I don't doubt he would, but he's smart enough to see all the implications. Indeed, there's no chance Europe's rulers would fathom his coronation. They would look at it as if Napoleon had placed one of his men on the Throne, which would be counter-productive with the entire freeing England scheme d'Arcy has himself masterminded! So, to answer your question, yes he does but he won't try and grab it."

Once more both men didn't show any emotions.

"Do you covet said Throne?"

"Hell, no!" shouted Darcy. "I'll do my duty if there's no other possibility but if you have a better candidate, please do sponsor him and help me to get my head out of the noose."

They looked at each other and nodded.

"If we had, we would, believe us" came finally the answer. "But look at the present situation: we're not even sure that if we try and push forward one of our pears we won't shoot ourselves in the foot. We clearly don't yet know if we'll be able to save the concept of Monarchy. If we try and look like we act just to counter you because you're not 'one of us' we will provide the Republican Movement –who, by the way is sponsored and financed by Lebrun- the best possible arguments against us."

Beaufort looked Fitzwilliam in the eyes.

"We've talked a lot about what King we want for England. There was no consensus between us but for one thing: we want a King because we want a Kingdom, not a Republic. And since there's no consensus between us on the name of the King we'll just do what's necessary to save the Kingdom. And since with you we have a real chance to get back even the concept of United Kingdom, we've decided to support your name as the future King!"

They smiled at Darcy's face.

"And the fact that you are so reluctant to make the grab for power is the best argument in your favor. We are all convinced that your brother would probably be a better King for the Country's future. But he we would have had no chance to ever twist him to work outside of what he considers his goals. You, on the other hand…"

He didn't finish his sentence.

"I'll do what's in my power not to let you twist me…" said Darcy.

"That's the game, you Majesty" smiled Beaufort. "The best will win, as usual. But with you we, at least, have a fighting chance!"

* * *

"It was lunch at my fiancée's family this noon" grumbled Duroc. "The first real family event for years!"

"Sorry for that, Géraud but you'll have to organize another family event another day" answered Lebrun while smiling at his favorite general. "We have received orders to redeploy d'Arcy's armies as soon as possible. We will bring them back to England and station them here for the winter…"

"That's bullshit and we aren't doing anything of the sort!" Lebrun eyes were amazed when they looked up from his report.

"That's not very diplomatically uttered, general!"

"I'm a soldier not a diplomat" reminded him Duroc. "And I refuse to pull my armies out of friendly country to put them in jeopardy on a foreign and potentially unfriendly soil. We wait till next spring and we embark everybody from Dublin to get them where Napoleon wants them! So my men will have the pleasures of cool and friendly winter quarters and you, my dear friend, will save lots of money by organizing only one massive troop migration. I know the Boss wants to have his troops as near as possible to react as swiftly as possible, but putting them on English soil will give the English population the worst message possible!" He shook his head. "Let them winter in Ireland and we'll have a good rested and well prepared army. Put them in England and they'll be more than pissed off and with English hostility facing them that's a very bad combination. We don't have had, yet, any real insurrection, let's not play with the fire, here!" He looked Lebrun in the eyes. "Is this bullshit a direct order from Napoleon?"

Lebrun nodded.

"Then you'll take your best pen and explain to our dear First Consul that his idea is just that! Bullshit of the highest magnitude. Give him all the good arguments I just gave you but let him know that if he insists I'll be forced to remind him that while on Irish ground the armies are still under the authority of d'Arcy and that I'll ask said d'Arcy if he backs the First Consul's orders! Since I'm quite sure what d'Arcy's going to say, let him consider if he really wants to show to the world that he and his first Proconsul are at odds!"

Duroc sighed.

"I'm at my office and I'll immediately dictate my own letter to Napoleon. Let's send them together and hope that our dear First Consul is open to arguments of good sense!"

"And if he isn't?"

Duroc stopped at the door and smiled at Lebrun.

"If he is not, I'll drag my heels long enough to slow the things as long as possible and when I see that there is no other way to gain time, I'll threaten him with my demission and with my wish to go into retirement to live at my wife and daughter's side! Let's not forget that I'm about to marry a rich heiress, it should be a reasonably believable threat."


	81. Rumors

**Chapter eighty-one: London rumors**

* * *

**London, Monday the 5****th**** of November**

* * *

"There is this rumor that swells in London…" said Lebrun while speaking to the Proconsul.

"What rumor?" asked d'Arcy who, for once, was only sitting idly in one of Lebrun's couches. It had taken longer than usually to calm his wife and sleep had been long to come.

"That you are William the Conqueror's last living heir…"

D'Arcy shrugged.

"That's old news! My dear aunt was sponsoring researches on that subject three months ago. And the result of said research acknowledged my Grandfather's pretentions. It seems that he truly was William's heir. So what? If I'm the next in line, I'm not alone in this case. My sister's boy come's right behind me and with God's help there will soon be my own son."

"It could be a problem" grumbled Lebrun. "Now that it is no longer a family affair but common knowledge, it gives the whole thing another importance. And there are people out there who want you on the Throne."

D'Arcy made no effort to smother his yawn.

"Sorry, short night…"

Lebrun shot him an ironic smile.

"And two healthy ladies sharing your bed isn't the best way to catch up with forlorn sleep!"

D'Arcy couldn't help but smile.

"I really hope that story is not running amok in London's streets. I'm not sure my wife's fans would like it."

"For now there's nothing about it in London's grapevine" said Lebrun. "But it is all over the Palace. It's only a question of time before London's rumor mongers catch up. And you're wrong if you believe that anything could lessen your wife's image with her supporters. The real thing you have to fear is that it becomes common law around here…"

"I will, of course, deny. And so will Jane…"

"Not the best idea you ever had, that" snickered Lebrun. "You know as well as anybody else that your wife is unable to lie without losing all credibility. It would give you away even faster."

"Depends on what we deny, my dear Consul. I'm quite sure I'm able to find a way to phrase it to give the whole thing the pretense of truth."

"Hopefully for you, you're right" said Lebrun. "But let's go back to that other rumor! I don't believe it will be graciously received by the First Consul if Fouché's agents add it to their report."

"Old news that too" countered d'Arcy. "Napoleon knows everything about my lineage and he already knows that I'm not interested in England's Throne. I spoke with him lengthily about my English plans. Believe me if I say that he agrees with everything I'm doing here."

"Oh…" whispered Lebrun. "So that other rumor about a cellar full of gold is not just the worst joke ever?"

"A cellar full of Gold, my God, this year's rumors are really extraordinary! Even I would hesitate before launching that one. Where is said cellar situated? If it's true it's probably worth my while to go have a look…"

"In Napoleon's Town House," answered Lebrun. "A cellar full of gold bars from floor to ceiling. The dream of every greedy man!"

D'Arcy nodded.

"Indeed that could be one of our First Consul's dreams. I can even imagine him stroking a gold bar just before going to bed."

"And then having a nightmare that it would no longer be there in the morning" hooted Lebrun. "I'm not sure so much gold would really improve his mood!"

D'Arcy snickered as well.

"Well, we'll never know because, of course, there's no such thing as a cellar full of gold!"

"And what about the William the Conqueror rumor?" insisted Lebrun. "It could cause a lot of trouble if some people decided to use it to their benefit."

D'arcy frowned.

"I won't deny, dear friend. I am what I am and it had been proven by independent specialists. It is of no real importance in this new world where Republics will soon replace most of the Monarchies."

"Make it official, then! Present your case before the Chairwoman of the House of Lords. If it is official nobody will be able to use the rumor by implying that you're behind the whole movement."

D'Arcy sighed heavily.

"I really don't have time to lose with those foolish things. I'm already earl thrice, one time Viscount and Knight in thirteen or fourteen places! What would it bring to be officially recognized as the heir of William the Conqueror?"

Lebrun opened his mouth to speak but stopped before uttering a sound. He just smiled at his opposite and waited.

There was silence for long seconds and finally d'Arcy nodded.

"Alright I'll do it!"

Lebrun winked at d'Arcy.

"And I'm quite sure that your files are even now ready, aren't they?"

D'Arcy answered with a smirk of his own.

"I'm a tidy man; it could be that most of the work has already been done."

* * *

"Everything's in these boxes" said d'Arcy.

The Duchess Newcastle nodded and made a sign to the clerks she had called.

"Please, bring these papers to my office." She looked at both clerks while they were carrying the three boxes away. She finally looked at d'Arcy. "We'll scrutinize them as soon as possible, _monsieur_."

"I'm in no hurry," answered d'Arcy. "I'm here because there are rumors about it and we fear that if we don't ask an official acknowledgement some people will use it to stir unrest."

"It's real, then?"

"It will be your job to acknowledge it! I have gathered all the documents and if I didn't get the originals you'll find copies which are guaranteed by official authorities. If you need to send people to control their authenticity, I'll pay the costs and I'll provide an official pass to give your investigator a free access to all French administrations." He smiled at the Duchess. "But from what I have seen it is the truth. I'm only, as my aunt takes some pleasure to remind me, the scion of a bit on the side but in what matters these papers indeed prove that I'm the last heir of William the Conqueror."

She shrugged.

"I hope you don't believe it will open some path toward the Throne of England. Because it won't erase what prevents you to place your claim!" She pointed toward the door where the boxes disappeared. "Even if we acknowledge your title, it won't give you more legitimacy than today."

D'Arcy nodded.

"I'm aware that my chances to be King of England are more than moot, your Grace. Please believe me if I say that I _don't want_ to be King. Not in England, not in Ireland and not anywhere else. I'm not interested in ruling a country." He sighed. "Not any longer anyway…"

The Duchess smiled at him but didn't comment. She had seen the d'Arcys when they were together and she didn't doubt a second that those two were close and in love. And she had been more impressed by _madame_ d'Arcy's fine mind than by her undeniable beauty.

"We'll speed up the procedure, I promise. We'll let you know as soon as we have the final result."

"Thank you, your Grace, I appreciate your kindness."

* * *

"_Madame_ d'Arcy…"

Lady Catherie de Bourgh's smile was genuine if not kind. Kind was not a qualifiers she wanted associated with her and she had taken quite a few measures to be sure that it would stay that way.

"My Lady" answered Jane while curtsying to her relative. She knew she could have just curtly nodded but she was aware that a curtsy was a small price to pay to ensure that her aunt was in a good mood. And, if everything was said she was only the wife of a French Civil Servant.

"Could I have a word with you, _madame_?" asked Lady de Bourgh.

"Of course, my Lady! How can I help you?"

"In private would be better, if it is possible."

Jane's small frown was immediately erased and she soon introduced her aunt to her private sitting room.

"Please take a seat" offered Jane. As soon as her guest was seated she smiled at the maid who immediately quitted the room.

"I'm not a woman of many words and I hate it when one beats around the bush so I'm going to be blunt and even rude but it is a matter of some importance."

This time Jane's frown stayed the time necessary to express her surprise.

"I'm listening, my Lady, about what matter do you wish to speak with me?"

Lady de Bourgh took a lengthy breath before leaning forward toward Jane.

"I'm quite aware that what I'm going to say is an unseemly intrusion into your private affairs but since it is a family matter I have the duty to know the truth."

"Why would you want to intrude into my private affairs, my Lady? I don't…"

"Don't take my initiative wrongly; I'm not here to utter a complaint or to criticize. I'm here to help. Help you, help your husband and last but not least, help the family."

This time Jane was clearly surprised.

"Help, my Lady? Help for what?"

"Help to nip the scandal in the bud! That sort of help!" answered Lady de Bourgh. "I don't know if you're conscious that you and your body guard are in the center of a rather scandalous rumor."

Jane blushed immediately crimson.

Which seemed to lighten Lady de Bourgh's mood tenfold.

"So it is really true that you are the worst liar of all England. That should be of great help in the second phase of our campaign."

"Second phase of what campaign?"

Lady de Bourgh sighed and took Jane's hand in hers.

"I'm totally aware than your husband is a cultural half-blood whose upbringing has been, at the least, exotic. That being the case it is more than normal that he came back from abroad with a few habits that are not as conventional as one would expect from a gentleman of the better society." She shook her head. "Not that I still believe that there is such thing as a perfect gentleman in most of Europe's aristocratic families but in order to keep up appearances everybody goes on pretending. So should we but in light of the rumor crawling all over the Palace we will have quite a few problem to play that silly game." She smiled at Jane and shot a glance at Maureen who was in her usual place leaning against the wall. "So we won't deny anything, ever!"

She looked Jane in the eyes and smiled at her. "You probably don't even know what impact you have on British society and that what you do is trend setting…"

"Which means…" frowned Jane.

"Which means that what you do will be copied and that those believing that you are their idol will try and reproduce your doings. In certain private matters that would be rather awkward!"

Jane's frown increased.

"I ask for nothing but to be let alone in matters which belong only in my private chambers."

Lady de Bourg shook her head.

"Too late for that, dear. You must know that everything you do is scrutinized by the people around you. In order to copy you or in order to condemn you. And even if it has only happened in the secret of your bedchamber you live in a palace, dear! This is one of the most rumor ridden place in the world and it is your home."

Jane sat back and looked at the old woman who sat in front of her.

"Why are you here, my Lady?"

"Because what will be called your scandalous behavior will soon be known everywhere in Europe and nobody will ever be able to stop the spreading of it. We need to control it or it will destroy us. Especially you, dear. You're the wife, you'll be branded either as the victim or as the instigator and believe me if I say that you won't like either."

"We did noth…" tried Jane.

"That's of no importance for the people outside there. They will defend or attack you with equal energy but what will be unavoidable is the fact that your life will be at the center of every gossip for the next months."

Her smile became predatory.

"So we'll use this spreading to further your image and avoid letting it destroy your life." She made a face. "For that we'll have to get your husband to put himself in the limelight once more. Do you believe he'll cooperate?"

"Probably…" whispered Jane. "It depends…"

* * *

"Since when are you my family's best friend?" asked d'Arcy once he had answered to his wife's demand and listened to what his aunt had to say.

"Since I'm the family's oldest member present, that's why! We need to control the wildfire which is about to burn your wife's reputation to cinders, I really hope you understand that!"

Geoffrey shot her an ugly look but finally accepted to hear her out.

"What do you believe had to be done?"

"You have to make it official of course and it has to be done as soon as possible! Since Tuesday is the sacred Chinese day it would be good a good idea to launch the ceremony this very night! Could we be ready for around midnight?"

"Ready for what" asked Geoffrey.

"For the wedding ceremony of course" said Lady de Bourgh. "You'll have to wed your second wife, I have looked at your French laws, it is specifically allowed to men of eastern lineage to have more than one wife if said wives agree to share their husband. You're the most eastern d'Arcy available and the official papers incorporating you as a French citizen have been made in Cairo. So, you fulfill all the conditions French law considers necessary to grant a man multiple wives! And I don't doubt a second that your friend Lebrun would grant you the right to do it whatever so!"

He looked at her for long minutes before turning his head in Jane's direction. Since Maureen was placed just behind his wife, he had the privilege to see both of them. Maureen was trying to stay stone faced but her eyes were shining and Jane was downright smiling.

So, what he saw was clearly in favor of the proposed solution.

"You're sure about that?" asked he while looking at Jane.

"It is the honorable solution" nodded Jane. "Even more now that Maureen is with child. Her child won't be stained by bastardy."

Geoffrey closed his eyes and forced himself to contemplate what this wedding ceremony would change for him. He finally sighed and looked his wife in the eyes.

"Go get the seamstresses; you'll both need a new dress this evening!"

He was about to say something not so kind to his aunt but an armful of wives stopped him in his track.


	82. Sharing

**Chapter eighty-two: London sharing**

* * *

**London, Tuesday the 6****th**** of November**

* * *

"Are you sure about that, dear? It is a rather upsetting thought that you'd become a '_ménage à trois'_" asked Lizzie while helping Jane to slip into her wedding dress. She had chosen to wear the dress Geoffrey had given her in August. She would just have another cape, shorter and larger but much more adapted to a cool November night.

"In fact we already are" smiled Jane her eyes shining with even more force than for her first wedding. "And it will give Maureen a peace of mind I feared she'd never find."

"He's building his harem and you are his willing accomplice" grumbled Lizzie who wasn't sure she could find in herself that same willingness to share her husband with another woman. Even if she was as loyal and congenial as Maureen.

"Of course I am" laughed Jane. "As his first wife it is my duty to find him other wives who are well-matched with the existing family. You tell me, who else but a wife knows what's good for her husband?"

Lizzie made a face.

"I won't enter that game, Jane. I don't know if it is a good idea, this multiple wives stuff. One woman within a couple is way enough in my opinion."

"I don't agree" answered Jane. "Not every woman is as lucky as we are to have a sister who's also a confident and a friend." Her smile disappeared for a second. "And sisters do marry and can be estranged. Having your support has always been a boon in my life. Losing it was the most dreadful prospect I've ever encountered. I do believe it could be possible to build a similar relationship with a well-chosen second wife. Of course you must be cautious to choose with care. We all know how ugly a competition for a man's favor can become."

"You're too kind for your own good" protested Lizzie. "He doesn't deserve you."

"Yes he does and you know it, Lizzie. He offered me free will and initiative. No doubt that I would have been happy with Charles but my life would have been a very homely one. With Geoffrey there's fire and creativity within every second we spend together. And I love every one of them!"

Jane looked at Maureen who was donning her own dress. Like Jane it was made out of white silk and an astounding amount of laces. Her smile hadn't disappeared a second since Geoffrey's acceptation and her eyes were lighting up the room like never before.

"Look at her" whispered Jane. "Never have I seen her so happy before. There's a romantic little girl hiding in each and every one of us and it's a miracle when she has the opportunity to come out. I'm more than happy that we have been able to make that gift to Maureen. I wouldn't have thought of it… I'm in debt with Lady de Bourgh. Never would I…"

Lizzie hushed her with a finger on the lips.

"Hush… Don't forget she's in the next room and don't you dare to believe that she is hard of hearing because of her age. Two months ago I would have sworn that she is our worst enemy within the family and now she is playing a role I'm unable to understand…"

"She was lonely and isolated" said Jane, "with, as her only mean of power, the authority she had over members of her household and some members of her family. Now she plays a real role and she has a real power. In my opinion it changes everything because it has given her the wish to preserve her new standing to the outside world. And this new status wouldn't survive if the family's image would be torn to pieces by rumors and malicious gossip. So there she is looking out and nipping in the bud everything which could damage the family's image." Jane's smile increased tenfold. "That's for the official explanation. The officious being, of course, that she really is, underneath, a benevolent old aunt who wants to help us!"

She could see at Lizzie's face that her last explanation wasn't one she believed. Once more proof that even smart Lizzie could, from time to time, misjudge people.

* * *

"What are you doing here? You're already married to him…" said her mother who had been the most declared opponent to what she called a sham.

"Because it will be the first official second marriage and because I want to set the trend" answered Jane. "It's not only a second marriage, it is a political statement. And in my opinion it is the only chance I'll get to show how it should be done to protect the first wife's rights."

"The first wife business is the worst idea you've ever had" grumbled Mrs. Bennet. "Being the unique wife was the best protection wives could had. Now you are opening a door which will stay open for a long time. You are sure of your husband's feeling and your position is secure but it won't be the case for most of wives out there. What's protecting them against the lust and viciousness of husbands who just want to exchange their 'old' wife against a young one who's more obedient?"

"Today" countered Jane, "these men just take one or more mistresses who cost the household a lot of money. A second wife will be part of the household and what the husband gifts her with will be known to the first wife. In fact it won't change anything for wives whose husbands are lusty and vicious scoundrel but it will certainly change the life of those whose husbands are serious and honorable. Especially if I can show to the world how it must be done!"

"I know I'm fighting a rearguard action but I insist: this is not the good idea you imagine. Out there, not all husbands are loving partners and not all women are guileless friends who support one another!"

Jane didn't insist. She knew her mother's reluctance was heartfelt but what she was doing with Geoffrey and Maureen was the right thing to do and if it was to serve others it was necessary that she take the matter in her hands. The world still wouldn't be perfect but in certain matters it would be better. And that was the only important point.

* * *

Even if everything had to be improvised within hours it was a marvelous wedding. As usual the groom had been with the officiating priest –in that case an Imam of Geoffrey's armies- and the bride had been brought to him. But this time it was the first wife who was guiding the new bride toward the altar and not the unavailable father. Jane was very conscious that what she was going to do was an important step in matters woman's rights, especially in those eastern French _départements_ where multiple wives were a cultural fact in the high society. She had spoken with Geoffrey and the Imam about what she wanted and even the Imam hadn't been reluctant. He was, like most of the Muslims following the French Armies, an open minded and modern fellow who could accept what were –in appearance- but minor changes.

So she was guiding Maureen to her husband and it would be her who would speak first.

Solemnly she was leading the pair but she took great care to be smiling and open faced. This was a gift she was giving to Maureen and she would show to the world that she was happy to give it. So, yes she was solemn, but she wouldn't be too serious.

They finally arrived to the Altar where Geoffrey was waiting with a lopsided smile and bright shining eyes.

Jane looked him in the eyes and both their smiles increased showing to all that they loved each other without restraint or afterthoughts. They lost themselves in the other's eyes and a long moment of silence fall on the Palace's chapel.

"I bring you your new wife, husband" said finally Jane. "Her name's Maureen and I believe she will be a loving wife to my beloved husband and a great asset to our household. I bring her to you in total knowledge of what it means to be part of a greater family."

Geoffrey looked at Maureen and his smile changed subtly to become loving and welcoming.

"Maureen do you agree to become my wife out of your free will and without being forced to?"

"Yes I do" answered said Maureen. "I'm here to willingly enter your family, Geoffrey and I'm aware that you are already married to Jane who guided me to you." She shot a smile to said Jane. "And I'm happy to be invited to share her life and yours till death parts us forever."

Geoffrey nodded toward Maureen and then Jane, took each of them at one arm, Jane left and Maureen right and turned toward the Imam.

"_C'est à vous de jouer, maintenant_…" (It's up to you, now).

* * *

"What does it make you, now with regard to us? A sister?" asked Lydia who had, till a few seconds before, negotiated with Jane and Geoffrey that a real wedding would have to have a wedding ball to be the real thing. And she had finally been able to obtain the promise that on Wednesday night the d'Arcy's would organize a great ball in honor of the new spouse.

"I suppose it depends of how you really want to consider me. If you want me as a sister I'd be happy to comply."

"And I'd be happy to welcome a new sister in the craziest family of whole Great Britain. I suppose that since you are living under the same roof as Jane you already know what you're going to endure."

"She's already enduring you, dear" interrupted Jane while making a sign to Maureen. "It's her wedding night; I believe her husband awaits her…"

Maureen blushed nicely thanked Jane with a smile and a hand stroke to soon vanish through a discreet door where Geoffrey had disappeared a few minutes earlier.

"You don't join them?" asked Lydia with an impish smile. "I would have hoped that you too could make the most out of that opportunity."

Jane frowned at her.

"She's married to Geoffrey not to me…" answered Jane in a blushed whisper. "It does not imply that she and… That we…"

"Why not?" said Lydia with an even more impish smile. "After all it is well known that women do have some possibilities to enjoy and give pleasure to each other…"

This time a real bright crimson blush covered Jane from top to toe.

"Stop immediately" whispered she. "Thinking about it alone is unseemly…"

"So you already thought about it?" Lydia's words robbed Jane of the last remnants of speech. "So would I! In your place I would ask your husband about it, I'm quite sure he has well overthought arguments to propose." She winked at her sister. "For both possibilities…"

* * *

"Do you believe she is ill?" asked Mrs. Bennet. "She has a very unhealthy skin color…"

"Don't worry" answered Mr. Bennet. "She just spoke with Lydia and knowing our dear younger daughter I'm quite sure she has alluded in very crude words at Jane's multiple marital situation. Was I in her place I wouldn't have failed to hint at my beloved daughter's new and strange situation."

"It wouldn't have been very charitable…" said Mrs. Bennet with frowning eyes.

"Indeed it would not" admitted Mr. Bennet. "But in that particular matter I'm done being the forgiving loving daddy. I disapprove what d'Arcy had manipulated my daughter into accepting and I won't admit that this is the world where my Jane is from now on forever living. I do like Maureen very much but that doesn't mean that their new situation is pleasing me. I'll never acknowledge this second wedding and even if it will be hard on the poor girl I'll refuse to call her Mrs. d'Arcy. It is a matter of principle. Some things are not to be accepted!"

"The grapevine says that it was Lady de Bourgh's idea…"

"It wouldn't surprise me in the least if the grapevine was right. That old hag has too much free time at her disposal. And since her dearest occupation is to interfere in other people's affairs it is really like her to promote such foolish ideas."

Mrs. Bennet didn't try and conceal her mirth.

"My, my, you seem to be really upset by this affair… Since your opinion hasn't been followed is it really worth to work yourself out of your usual serenity?"

He shot his wife a surprised look.

"I am upset Mrs. Bennet! To see my darling daughter being used and abused by a master in manipulation is hurting me. It is not to be accepted."

"She says that it was her idea." Said Mrs. Bennet. "And even if it upsets you even more I'm sure that Geoffrey has never had any intention to transform his marriage into something like what it is becoming. Believe me he was very happy with just Jane. It is your daughter's inherent good personality that pushed them into that situation. The moment she was aware that Maureen was in love with her husband she couldn't help but search for a solution which wouldn't rob any of them from anything. Very soon she found out that there was only one solution that could give all those involved happiness."

"I'm not happy" snapped Mr. Bennet.

"You're not really involved, dear" countered Mrs. Bennet while hiding a smile.

"I do feel myself very involved!"

"Well if I may, you should try and un-involve yourself as soon as possible because now that it is officially ratified there's not a thing you'll be able to do to stop the present situation. The only thing you'll gain with further involvement will be an ulcer!"

"I'm not ready to give up yet! It's my duty as a father to protect my daughters and I'll do what has to be done to protect them!"

Mrs. Bennet couldn't help but shake her head.

Hopefully her husband's little crisis wouldn't last too long, because if it came to a confrontation between him and Geoffrey there was no doubt in her mind at the who would be the final winner.


	83. Departure

**Chapter eighty-three: London departure**

* * *

**London, Wednesday the 7****th**** of November**

* * *

"I need to go to Cardiff" said Darcy to his wife. "And it will take no more than a week on the spot, so if you want to stay in London it won't be a problem for me."

"You're sure?" asked Lizzie. "With the journey it could take as much as two weeks. It's a long time two weeks. I know I'll miss you."

"So do I but with the different sites I have to visit I'll do it on horse to save time and even if you're no longer a beginner in matters horse riding I still will refuse to let you ride at my side."

"In fact you prefer that I stay in London, isn't it?"

Darcy sighed.

"I wouldn't say it in those words but the fact is that I'd like you to stay to look at the evolution of the relationship between your father and d'Arcy. There's something there that worries me. I would be reassured to know that the most levelheaded Bennet I know is here to deflate the crisis I feel is coming toward us. I've never seen you father so upset and if there's one thing I know it is that in such a state of mind even the most patient and level headed man can make mistakes." He made a face. "And mistakes involving my dear brother in law could have letal consequences…"

Lizzie couldn't help but protest.

"Geoffrey would never…"

"When in rage" insisted Darcy, "every man is able to do things he'll soon regret. And Geoffrey is a very dangerous man when crossed! So, I'd prefer to have you on site to look at them and, if necessary, to intervene."

Lizzie nodded while showing that she wasn't happy with the role she just accepted.

"I agree that it is more than unusual to see my father so upset. He even grumbles while walking in the park. I'll look into it, I promise."

Darcy smiled at her.

"Thanks, dear. Now that I have got a father back I would like to have him sound and alive for the next twenty years…"

"So do I" said Lizzie after having kissed her husband. "I'll look at it and I will be careful not to jolt our children more than necessary."

"I didn't…"

"Of course, you didn't, dear" hushed him Lizzie. "But I can read it in you eyes, you're not only worried about papa."

Darcy tried once more to protest but Lizzie stopped him.

"No need to deny, I like it that you worry but please be aware that I will do my morning walks to the day of the birth. Even your worries won't glue me in a bed for more than necessary!"

He smiled his most impish smile.

"We'll see…"

"No we won't; it's a foregone conclusion, Fitzwilliam: I won't be secluded in a chamber to protect the unborn babes. I'll stay up till the last moment and if it is still possible I'll do my duty as a queen as long as possible."

Darcy took her in his arms and embraced her.

"You won't be able to smother my worries, you know. I lost a mother in childbed and my fear will only disappear when you're suckling the babes in front of me."

She bent back to look him into the eyes.

"We Bennet females don't do dying in childbed, Mr. Darcy! I have already promised you that everything will be to the best, so stop worrying and go on with your royal duties. I'll do my part of the job and deliver your heir in due course!"

"I want the heir and the mother!" insisted Darcy.

"And you'll have both, I promise!"

* * *

"Papa worries me" whispered Jane. "I've never seen him so upset."

Maureen shrugged and looked rather unhappy.

"It's my fault, I fear."

"No, it's not" countered Jane. "It's perhaps mine but it's before all _his_. He's just too blocked in his ways to be able to accept new realities."

"I am unable to accept this new reality of yours" smiled Maureen. "I do feel with his problems with it. It is really not so easy to apprehend, you know? It was already difficult to see you accept me sharing your husband with you but, in a certain twisted manner I could still find enough examples in my surroundings to feel secure. But now…" She made a face. "I just can't grasp what's happening to me. Being Mrs. d'Arcy seems not right since _you_ are already Mrs. d'Arcy!"

Jane looked toward the heaven.

"Why is it so difficult to accept that, under certain circumstances, a new, original, path is better than an old inadequate one? Lady de Bourgh was right, since the French law had anticipated the problem it would have been foolish not to use the available procedure. And now the facts and the legal situation are in harmony." She smiled at Maureen and taped her hand. "And I know you are much more comfortable now than you were before."

"I am" agreed Maureen. "But it doesn't mean that I'm able to believe it. It's like living in a dream. I'm happy to live it but there's always that little fear that, sooner or later, I'll awake and find myself falling back into reality."

Jane sighed at the world's follies.

Why, by God, was it so difficult for most people to just live the happy life they were granted? Why imagine a future where they just stopped to be happy? It was so difficult to understand that, from time to time, she just stopped trying.

But in Maureen's and her father's case she just couldn't stop and let them waddle in their own imaginary misery.

"You do realize that it is foolish to spoil you actual happiness by imagining your future unhappiness?"

"Of course I do!" said Maureen. "And, thanks God for it, it isn't a lasting feeling. Most of the time; I'm just basking in my new found happiness. But…"

Jane nodded.

"From time to time your foolish guilt comes back with revenge and spoils everything!" She took Maureen's hands in her and looked her in the eyes. "There's nothing to be guilty about, dear. I don't own Geoffrey and I don't want to own anybody. I just love him and that gives me no greater or better right over him than you do you who love him too. As long as you place yourself in a position where what is important is the love you are able to give, there's nothing to fear or to miss. Your love, that's what's important. And believe me, it's enough to light up love even in the most remote hearts. You don't love to be loved; you love for the sake of loving and then, love being its best champion, you'll get love aplenty from uncounted and unlimited sources."

Maureen made a face.

"I'm not you, Jane. It's not easy for me to love…" She shook her head. "Hating comes much easier to people like me."

"That's the most foolish thing I ever heard. Who was the person you should have hated the most?" There was only a pained silence for an answer. "Indeed me, and what better way to get rid of me but to just let me be my foolish self? But you chose not to let me die and took the bullets and the blade for me. That was love speaking not hate. And if you let love take hold of you only good things will happen to you, I'm sure of it." Jane forced Maureen who seemed to be fascinated by the rug to look up. "Just give it a chance, dear. Stop fighting against happiness and embrace it with all your might. Let it flow into you and take place in each and every parcel of your body. You'll see changes taking place in your life immediately. Just try it; it's worth your time, believe me!"

* * *

"Why are you so distant? I swear I won't assault you…"

Georgiana answered the Viscount's remark with a little smile.

She had always been shy and being with a perfect stranger –be it a charming and sympathetic one- was difficult for her. Had Lydia been with her it would have been easier. Lydia would have done all the talking and she would have done all the listening and observing. She was good at listening and observing. At talking? Not at all…

But Lydia had abandoned her at the first best occasion and now she was alone with Viscount Andover and at a loss about what to say.

After long seconds of silence she felt forced to say something.

"I'm not the best conversationalist, that's for sure. Usually Lydia or Kitty would be here and nobody would complain about the lack of conversation."

"I'm not complaining, Miss Darcy. I'm just wondering if it wouldn't be better to stop here my calls. I wouldn't want to bother you."

"You don't bother me at all, my Lord" answered Georgiana hastily. "Quite the contrary in fact, but I can't help it I'm not good at talking, or at gossip or at all those other occupations young ladies seem to excel while I'm just incompetent at them."

"I'm sure you're very competent at talking when you are at ease. Which is clearly not the case when alone at my side." He stopped and forced her to face him. "I must ask for your forgiveness to be the one responsible to mute such a lovely young Lady. I can ask it on my knees if it would increase my chances to be forgiven."

Her smile broadened.

"Better not, my Lord or I'm quite sure that my brother would be back here within the hour to ask you with his most serious air what you were doing on your knees before me."

"I could always lie to him and pretend that I was asking for your hand."

This time she couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"And he would kill you on the spot. He's the most possessive brother one can imagine." She bent forward to be able to whisper. "No, the best way to gain his sympathy will be to be accepted by Lizzie." She blushed lightly. "Sorry, I should say Elizabeth, his consort."

"You should indeed but I rather prefer you relaxed and at ease. You're always beautiful but when you smile I feel that unbending force that pulls me to fall on my knees to ask for your hand even if it is at the risk of being shot by your brother."

Georgiana shook her head.

"Asking for my hand shouldn't be taken lightly…"

"I don't take it lightly, Miss Darcy. I'm just hesitating between two very different paths. Shall I play the fool and try and overrun your hesitations or shall I play the safe side and slowly work at making you like me?"

Georgiana made a little gesture meaning that it was up to him.

"Both paths have their advantages, my Lord. And in my family both have been successful. Geoffrey asked for my sister's hand less than an hour after having saved her life. My brother on the other side spent months wondering how he could handle a life without Lizzie. They both got, finally, the lady of their heart."

Viscount Andover answered with a smile of his own.

"I need to save your life, then, Miss Darcy. And believe me or not within the hour I'll be on my knees…"

"To be shot by my brother…" concluded Georgiana with an ironic smile.

"Well we'll have to find a way to change that ending. It clearly isn't the one I'd like to test."

"Why not try a third more original one? You don't need to copy either of my brothers, but you probably need to find your own path to…" She hesitated. "A lady's heart… Especially if said Lady is not yet quite sure if she's ready for such a tremendous leap in her life."

The Viscount accepted the explanation with a nod. He could very well agree with Miss Darcy. He wasn't quite sure about his feelings, yet. Even if he was sure that the person facing him was the first young Lady for a long time which has been able to entice him into following the social path of courting.

"Shall I begin by calling again tomorrow?"

Georgiana frowned just before accepting.

"Since my brother is out of Town you should be able to survive for the next week or so. Hopefully it will be enough to convince my brother's wife that you are a gentleman who deserves to be given a chance to survive."

He looked around them as if to survey their surroundings.

"You wouldn't have an advice to ease my way in that direction?"

"Be witty and ready to cross swords with Lizzie. She's sharp with mind and tongue: you'll have to be at your best to impress her."

"With you at my side, I'm sure I'll be just that, Miss Darcy."

* * *

The couple had the illusion to have been left alone but he was, in reality, under multiple scrutinies. There were the palace guards who looked at every body strolling through the gardens, there was Georgiana's body guards form both the apparent and secret sort and there was three pairs of eyes belonging to the –yet- unmarried Bennet sisters.

"He's charming, for sure, but not very enterprising" whispered Lydia. "He hasn't even tried to hold one of her hands."

"He's forthcoming and shows restraint" said Mary. "That's a good combination. I would have been rather disappointed if he had used your sudden departure to become enterprising with our sister."

"He knows Fitzwilliam's reputation" countered Lydia. "Even if is a rogue at heart he would be the King of all idiots to try something with Georgie. I fear this little show won't be enough to get a clear idea of this gentleman's character."

"We'll have to mount something a little more elaborate" conceded Kitty. "We need to know how he reacts when things aren't smooth and serene."

Mary frowned at her sisters which were showing a part of their –not so- old liveliness.

"Fitzwilliam wouldn't like it if we put his sister at risk!"

Both her sisters looked at her with the same outraged air on the face.

"Of course we won't put Georgie at risk" said Lydia who had forever been the most efficient word wielder. "We will be certain that nothing unexpected happens. But if we are to know this Viscount's real character, we will have to put him –them- into a little more taxing than present chilly November breeze."

Mary who had, for years, seen their sisters schemes crash in flames, made a face.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea…"

"We'll ask Kennedy and Maureen to think about something" insisted Kitty. "They will have the experience to fill the plot with enough realism to be believable."

"Why not let those two build a normal relationship with normal encounters and normal social situations? Most of people do find their way to each other outside of a rioting crowd and without battling off crazy killers…"

Both her sisters shot her a disappointed look. They had hoped that the more colorful clothes she was wearing would be a sign of some inner '_normalization_'. But clearly that wasn't the case. She was still old cautious, careful, overthinking Mary.

"Most people do but look at what happened to our family" said Kitty. "The relationship born out of duress and ordeals are so much more solid!"

"What duress? What ordeal?" insisted Mary. "Apart from Jane's stunt against those would be rapists I don't see a single 'ordeal' in each and every one of our lives! We've cruised through that whole mess with not a single shot being directed against us and without any real danger."

"What about the kidnapping of Jane and Lizzie and Georgiana?"

"Jane and Lizzie were already married so you can't add that ugly episode to you count" countered Mary. "And the only interesting thing Georgie got out of that 'adventure' was her knowledge about Maureen's fighting lessons. For everything else I'm quite sure she would have been very happy not to have to live that little episode!"

Lydia shook her head in despair.

"From time to time you are the most boring creature in the world, Mary. We don't want them in danger we want them thinking they are in danger. I will have the same result without any harm done."

Mary who very well knew that if one knew how a trip begins nobody had ever been sure about how it would end saw her sisters' determination. If she went on countering them they would just shut her out of their little schemes. But just accepting would be suspect.

"Let's first ask Maureen" said she. "She's the specialist, if she says it can be done without putting Georgie or Thomas at risk, I'm with you."

Soon the mischievous smiles were back on her sisters' faces. And Mary was a long way from reassured.


	84. Prospects and comforts

**Chapter eighty-four: London prospects and comforts **

* * *

**London, Wednesday the 7****th**** of November**

* * *

The glimmer in Maureen's eyes had been the ultimate hint that this whole scheme was a bad idea! Mary sighed discreetly and began to make a list of the people she could –just in case- ask for help if something –anything- should go wrong.

Jane was out of the question because she would refuse to take a risk and, even if she was a kind a loving soul, when something seemed to be dangerous for somebody she loved she would smother the whole project in less time that it would have seem possible.

She was sure that Jane's interfering would anger Lydia and Kitty who, on this particular scheme, were working together like in good old Meryton. And Mary was rather satisfied to see that both her younger sisters have found back their old complicity. It seemed just right to hear them giggle and scheme in unison.

What wasn't right was the scale this peculiar scheme was taking.

Should she ask her fiancé?

Probably not! To ask a man was not a good idea. Her siblings would not like seeing a man interfere.

Lizzie? It was perhaps a possibility… But not immediately because Lizzie was sure to tell Jane and Jane would react in her usual soft but efficient manner.

She would have to report to Lizzie just a few hours before the trap –there was no other word- was about to spring on poor unknowing Thomas.

Their mother?

She was much more level headed than a few months before but in her heart she was like Lydia and Kitty. She wouldn't see the risky part to concentrate on the fun parts. No, definitively her mother wouldn't be helpful.

Their father?

Out of the question! In his present mind set he would overreact and that would surely upset the whole family. And he was a man… Two excellent reasons not asking him.

Who else could she ask?

Anne was out of town in Rosings and never, ever would she ask Lady de Bourgh who was, in Mary's mind, every bit the Dragon Geoffrey mocked!

Aunt Gardiner?

Yes, that could be a good plan. But she would have to scout the land before. Maureen's reaction has been the bad surprise of the day and it was entirely her fault if d'Arcy's second wife was now aboard and bringing her battle experience to flesh into a real challenge what, without her, would have been a simple prank.

How could she have forgotten Maureen's anti English feelings?

Of course she had excuses. The young bride had been marvelously romantic in her white wedding gown and with that beautiful flower crown in her hair she had looked like a normal bride bursting of happiness and beautiful in her own right. But deep inside, even if she was on the road to normality, she still wasn't a _normal_ young wife!

Mary sighed, because meanwhile she had to stay aboard to look at the plan and snuff out the really dangerous schemes.

Like now…

"No, no black powder barrel with a burning fuse to add to the challenge" said she. "If he fails to get to it in time half the block will be in rubble and he and Georgiana would be dead. We agreed on nothing lethal, remember?"

* * *

"What are they doing?" asked Jane her husband. "It must be important to get Maureen to stop lurking over me like a hawk."

"Why should she? She's no longer your body guard, remember? She's my wife and as such is no longer forced to work for a living."

"Thanks for not answering my question, dear" smiled Jane who had quite a good knowledge of how Geoffrey acted when unwilling to answer a 'difficult' question.

He answered with a smile of his own.

"Let's say that they prepare a surprise…"

"A surprise? And who's the happy recipient?"

"Since it is bent to be a surprise, you should contemplate that said surprise could be directed toward you and reconsider your question."

Jane made a half angry half amused face.

"Indeed I should" agreed Jane. "But…"

"But you're more curious than expectant and so you insist!"

"Indeed I do" said Jane with her most decided mien.

"As a matter of fact nobody having informed me I'm, technically, not in the loop."

"Geoffrey…" Jane's tone was as threatening as she could muster.

"Well, it is the truth. I don't know nothing, so I'm unable to give you the truth…"

"Give me your best speculation" insisted Jane while slowly stalking her husband. "I'll give you my opinion if your conclusions are right."

"And if I refuse?"

"I'll tickle you till surrender" said Jane who had just grasped the advantage of having, for once, her husband all for herself.

"You know quite well how this kind of attack ends" said he while retreating toward their bedroom.

"Yes, with you confessing everything!"

"This time it will be more difficult, _madame_, surrendering to you would mean betraying my sweet second wife. I'll do my best to resist."

"Challenge taken" said Jane while trying to jump her husband.

He dodged easily but the way he chose to get out of her grasp was a doomed one. Soon, in that path, he would be trapped against their bed. He would have no alternative but to fight to the dear end. He looked forward to it…

* * *

"What are they plotting?"

Lizzie looked at her mother and smiled.

"I don't know but since Mary is with them I'm quite sure even if it is, in the end, embarrassing it will not be neither foolish nor dangerous."

"I must admit that I'm glad Kitty and Lydia have renewed their old relationship in such a manner. I really feared that their old complicity would be the one thing the family would have to pay to all this success."

"Now that Lydia has understood that one doesn't need to be foolish to be interesting it was only a question of time to see them remember all the good memories they have shared in the past." She looked at her mother. "They were a silly pair but they always were kind and pleasant even if a little bad behaving."

Her mother made a face where guilt was battling pleasure.

"I know it was my fault but…"

"No need to come back to old failures or mistakes. What's important is that we came out of everything more mature and better off…"

"That's the understatement of the year, dear! Indeed we are better off and if I could convince your father to stop plotting revenge against Geoffrey's unacceptable treatment of Jane it would be even better."

Lizzie made a face.

"He's still upset by the wedding?"

"He was upset before, dear. He was angry at Geoffrey to force his mistress into his daughter's life."

"Didn't Jane speak lengthily with him?" asked Lizzie with a frown.

"Indeed she did but he's in one of his bad moods. His marvelous daughter being perfect it's the husband's fault what is happening to her."

"Nothing's happening to her" grumbled Lizzie. "She's at the source of everything and having Maureen at her husband's side –not to speak about their bed- is pleasing her enormously. She believes it's the best thing that could ever happen to them!"

"She told it to him in those exact same words but he still believes she has been influenced by Geoffrey's devious mind."

"Which is probably the case for a lot of other things, but not in that matter" added Lizzie who had spoken quite a few times with her sister about the Maureen Geoffrey relationship.

"He doesn't want to listen, I fear he's set in this path and I must admit that he worries me." Mrs. Bennet sniffed. "He worries me a lot!"

"I should have insisted with Fitzwilliam and convinced him to take him to Cardiff. They would have had time to speak about a lot of things and I'm quite sure Fitzwilliam would have been able to see things in another light."

"Shouldn't we insist and speak with him?" asked Mrs. Bennet.

"We can try but you know how he is when he is set in his ways."

"You were always able to swing him into reason. Please do make a try. He really really worries me!"

Lizzie sighed before smiling at her mother.

"I'll do it Mama but I'm quite certain that in this particular matter I won't be successful. Last time I spoke about this subject with him he was adamant about his antipathies."

"Let's not go beaten into battle, dear, please!"

"I'll do my best, I promise!"

* * *

"So now it's your turn to speak with the old fool?" grumbled Mr. Bennet when he saw who had knocked at his door.

"It's a family tradition, isn't it? You act foolish and they send me to you to bring you to stop acting foolish" answered Lizzie with a smile. "I succeeded often enough to let everybody believe it is a real winning movement."

"I rarely act foolishly" countered her father. "So it didn't happen that often."

"I can give you an exhaustive list if you want, Papa. I'm remembering every episode rather clearly."

Mr. Bennet puffed his disagreement.

"I would have thought that you, of every family member, would be at my side when it comes to protect Jane!"

"I would if she needed protection, Papa. But in this very matter she's the real culprit of the affair. I should know she explained everything to me even before pushing her husband and Maureen to enter into their new relationship…"

Mr. Bennet shot her a reproachful look.

"And you couldn't convince her that it was a foolish thing to do?"

"She was in her good Samaritan attire, Papa! You know as well as I that in that mood there's nothing to make her change her mind. And she did it because she really feared that Maureen would commit something… final. And she knows that she owes her life and her children's life to her bodyguard. Sharing Geoffrey is her way to repay her debt."

Mr. Bennet couldn't help but shout at his daughter.

"I won't admit such nonsense! A husband can't be _shared_!"

That outburst made Lizzie laugh.

"Coming from a man who confessed having had three mistresses, such a declaration is rather extraordinary, isn't it?" She came to her father went to her knees and looked him in the eyes. "What you say, in short, is that everything's possible as long as it is the husband who decides! Am I right or not?"

"Of course you are not!" shouted Mr. Bennet back at her but she could see in his eyes that her argument has hit a sensible point. "This situation will bring forth problems, Lizzie. It's unnatural…"

"Not in other cultures, Papa. And if you are honest in the way you look at it, it is only unnatural here because it developed out of the wife's initiative and because it was, finally, acknowledged legally in front of everybody." She took her father's hands in her. "Papa, do you trust in my judgment?"

He didn't hesitate before answering.

"Yes I do, but you must admit that your love for your sister could cloud it very easily."

"It could but, believe me, we spoke a lot about her plan and I tried everything I could to dissuade her to do it. And probably for the exact same reasons you are dwelling in. But I couldn't convince her. Not because my arguments weren't good but because her feeling of the situation was better than mine." She smiled at her father. "Will you be honest with me, Papa?"

He frowned and she could sense that he was feeling the trap she was setting. But, to her great satisfaction, he didn't budge.

"I'll try, dear, I'll try…"

"Do you really believe that a man can be totally faithful when it comes to sexual intercourse?"

He squinted his eyes and a worried mien took place on his face.

"What do you mean exactly?"

She smiled at him impishly.

"What I mean exactly is this, Papa: if a man has an occasion –sorry for the rudeness of my words but since I'm a married woman now, it should be acceptable- to fuck another woman, do you really believe he'll think about the consequences more than a few minutes?"

"Of course, he'll do, especially if he is married…"

She lifted her eyebrows to show her reluctance to believe his words.

"I did! It was never an easy decision to betray your mother. And I am very aware that I was at fault in these matters but since I was too cowardly to try and patch up our relationship I saw no other solution but to get what I needed elsewhere."

"By fucking another woman you didn't love?"

He shot her an angry look but nodded.

"Well Geoffrey isn't guilty of anything in this affair. He didn't betray Jane and he didn't use another woman he didn't love just to get rid of some sexual fantasies he could no longer found at home…"

"You're ridiculing the situation! It wasn't only sexual…"

"With Geoffrey I agree! In your case? You said it yourself that it was done to cover needs you no longer could find at home! And you confessed that you had no feeling for those women…" She looked him in the eyes. "Did you?"

His silence spoke volumes. Finally he sighed.

"It was not love in the sense I felt it for Caroline or your mother. But I won't deny any longer that there was affection for them. They weren't just…" he couldn't go on using a qualifier.

"And I prefer it that way Papa" said Lizzie. "I know you, and I know that under all those layers of sarcasm and irony hides a very sensible man we all love madly. I wouldn't have liked to discover a rogue and a scoundrel underneath…"

He bent forward and forced her to come and embrace him.

"You really believe I should stop worrying about Jane?"

She shook her head.

"I never said anything of the sort" protested she. "Go on worrying about her and all of us. That's how love works for normal people. Just stop condemning Geoffrey for a thing he hasn't done. He is guilty of lots of things, Papa and when you look in his eyes you'll see the guilt lurking there, but he really loves Jane and he never betrayed her with Maureen, it was Jane's doing that brought those two again together and it was a very good thing for the three of them."

"You really believe so?"

"Of course I do! It lifted away what was crushing Jane's happiness. She was very worried about Maureen and what her marriage had done to Geoffrey's former mistress…"

"That's stupid…"

"Indeed but it is typically how Jane's functioning. She was, at a very vicious level, feeling guilty to have been able to obtain what her savior had lost somewhere along her relationship with Geoffrey. Now she's relieved and again limitless happy. Maureen is walking on air and finally finding solace and Geoffrey…" She looked at her father to let him conclude.

He finally smiled while sighing.

"Geoffrey takes the situation as it is and makes the most of it…"

"As would any man in this world" added Lizzie.

Mr. Bennet frowned at his daughter and she immediately understood the meaning of said frown.

"No" she said with force. "I'm not planning to find a second wife for Fitzwilliam and since he confessed to me that he never felt anything near affection for any woman before me I won't have to deal with the same sort of guilt as Jane. You can be completely reassured, I love Jane very much and I'm not immune to her advice but in this very personal matter I'm not following any of it. I'll even do everything in my power to be and stay the only woman in Fitzwilliam's life."

Mr. Bennet embraced her fiercely.

"Seems you can add this conversation to you list, dear…"

"I never doubted I soon could do just that, Papa."


	85. Meetings

**Chapter eighty-five: London **

* * *

**London, Thursday the 8****th**** of November**

* * *

"You're still with us" smiled Jane when her hand found her husband's arm lying at her side. "No briefing or appointment to get you busy this morning?"

"Not this morning, not this afternoon and this evening we dance at our wedding ball till late in the night. Today I'm at my wives' disposal. This day is ours and you are to decide what to do with it."

Jane looked at Maureen and they soon couldn't help but smile. They had spoken about just such a possibility the day before. It was probably not a coincidence that just the day after they complained never to be able to be with their husband he did find the time to spend a whole day with them.

But then it was interesting information. She just learned that it wasn't Maureen who was her husband's source of information about her whereabouts.

She wouldn't have minded but it was a pleasant surprise to know that she could count on her sister's discretion.

"I'd like to call on the Gardiners" said Jane after a few minutes of satisfied thinking. "It had been a while since I had the pleasure to be a guest at my aunt's." She smiled at Geoffrey. "She had always been a great support in all those little depression phases I had earlier in my life. And since they have decided to quit their house to live somewhere new, I'd like to see it as it was when it was the only haven I could find to outrun my family's hysterics."

Geoffrey looked at Maureen who took a few seconds to understand that it was the wife's opinion Geoffrey was asking for.

"It would be a pleasure" said she immediately. "You'll have the opportunity to speak about your youth… I must admit I'm interested."

"Well that's done; we have the program for the morning and the luncheon." He stood up and glided to the bathroom in his usual feline way.

Two pairs of admiring and satisfied eyes followed him until he disappeared.

* * *

"I had no preferred niece" protested Mrs. Gardiner while they were chatting about the past. "Well, I had, but you have to use a plural. You and Elizabeth were my preferred nieces but that's also because we were your preferred aunt and uncle! Mary was so prone to believe that she wouldn't be welcome that she only came to us very rarely. And as for Lydia and Kitty they didn't like it here because in this house they had to behave! Which they didn't like and so, being just young silly girls, they chose to stay where they were free to roam at will."

"They were too young to understand that the Town was a Marvel in its own right" said Jane as usual protecting her little sisters. "They would soon have fathomed that it was here that they had the best chances to encounter culture and knowledge."

"I doubt it" said Kitty who was there with her fiancé. "We were the Princesses of the Household, Jane! We always got what we wanted and we knew that in Town we would have to reign in. Culture and knowledge were of no interest for us. We just wanted to have fun, to dance and to flirt, preferably with redcoats. To be honest it was a very good thing we were too foolish to understand that in Town we would have had so much more occasions to have fun." She smiled at her aunt with whom she had much more in common that she would ever had thought. "Sorry for having been so stupid, Aunt…"

"It's behind us and I must admit that I'm very very satisfied with the Swan that was hidden behind the silly duckling." She shook her head. "I should say Swans because Mary and Lydia do make me proud too these days. Mary by having been able to overcome her tediousness and Lydia by acquiring a maturity I wouldn't have thought possible." She smiled at d'Arcy. "In Lydia's case the transformation is to put down entirely on you, Geoffrey. It was only when she grasped the difference between a real man of substance and a glamorous but empty sham that she forced herself to look at her life differently."

"I believe" added Kitty, "that it was also because she became aware that she had encountered Geoffrey before Jane but that it was the later he fell for! That forced her to think about the reasons a man she was admiring would prefer her elder –so much older- sister to herself. She found out rather easily. And now that she has overcome her 'I want an Emperor as a Husband' phase I must say that it's even more fun to be with her than before…" She smiled at Charles. "Because now, she thinks everything over before making a decision. It's less spontaneous but so much safer!"

Everybody agreed and soon Jane was back at telling stories about her different sojourns in her Uncle's home.

At some time between main meal and dessert Charles and d'Arcy exchanged a long ponderous glance. It began with a trace of hostility but soon ended with both men smiling. Charles had not yet overcome his own faults but seeing d'Arcy at Jane's side there was no longer a doubt in his mind that these two were meant to be together. She was no longer the shy marvelously beautiful women who captured his heart but she literally exuded assurance and confidence. Her pregnancy was perhaps a factor in her mutation but he knew that what –who- had really make her blossom into what was now Jane d'Arcy, was just there sitting opposite to him and between his two wives. He was his usual stolid confident self but there was more to it. He listened to his wife's stories and he clearly enjoyed them. And his eyes that could be as cold and merciless as a snake's were showing signs of humanity.

Yes agreed Charles, those two together were at their best and their best was just what England and Europe needed just now.

He turned his head and wasn't surprised to see Kitty looking at him. And what he saw made him smile. He didn't know how he knew it but he knew that she knew that he had just overcome his 'Jane' crisis. He was still in awe before Jane and he would never forget of forgive what he had missed because of his cowardice. But God had been merciful with him that famous Meryton evening by giving him the love of two exceptional young women. Kitty being probably the better match for him he could only feel grateful for everything that had happened to him these last months. He could even feel grateful without remorse since soon England would be, once more, a free country.

She winked at him and he winked back.

Yes agreed he for the second time that afternoon his union with her would be a great satisfaction for them both. He just knew it. And in her eyes he could read that she knew it too.

* * *

Georgiana wasn't surprised at all to see who was calling. He bowed at her and handed her the bouquet of roses he was carrying.

"Miss Darcy" said Thomas while smiling. "You are radiant today and your smile is the best welcome I could await."

"I'm a well-mannered lady, My Lord," answered Georgiana. "I always smile when I receive a caller."

"I don't doubt it for a second, Miss Darcy, but you will have to allow me to continue to live in the delusion that your eyes are smiling in such a manner only for me."

"I'm no doctor and though unable to cure you of any of your delusions, My Lord. But I will grant you that your visits are welcome and awaited. I'm no specialist in human behavior but it could, perhaps, explain the smiling eyes."

They both laughed and soon he was introduced in the parlor where Lydia and Mary were already sitting opposite to each other playing chess. Emilie frowning at the board in a very serious manner.

They all curtsied to the Viscount and he answered with a bow and a smile.

He grabbed something out of his pocket and handed it to Emilie.

"I remembered that conversation we had about Utopia last time we met, miss Duroc and I happened to have at our town house a very neat copy of Thomas Moore's book. It is a double language edition in Latin and English so; I'm sure, you won't have any problem understanding it."

Emilie took the book and strolled reverently through the pages.

"Thank you, my Lord, be sure that I will treat your book with the utmost care."

"I never had any fear in that matter, mademoiselle, I've seen you take care of your own books; I do recognize a respectful fellow scholar when I meet one."

Mary and Lydia glanced at each other and couldn't help but admire the very efficient way their guest had just captured the support of two of Georgiana's chaperons.

He acknowledged their understanding with a satisfied smile before looking at the board.

"Sorry if I interrupted you in your game. I'll try and be discreet while conversing with your sister."

"We were about finished" said Lydia. "I believe that I will be checkmate in around four moves."

"Three" corrected Emilie. "You've, once more, neglected Mary's attack on your jester." She looked at her soon to be mother. "I don't understand why you always forget that it is her favorite move to force you to displace your queen. I'm sure she did exactly the same move in the last two games she won."

"Are you spying on me and revealing my trade secrets to the foe, mademoiselle Duroc?" asked Mary with a mock frown on her face.

"I'm doing nothing of the sort since when you moved I let it happen and just looked at your sister's absence of reaction. In truth, I'm helping you since by showing you that you are being complacent in your certainty that you are going to win, you give your opponent a chance to postpone her inevitable defeat…"

This time it was Lydia who frowned.

"Nothing's inevitable" she protested. "I had my chances till a few minutes ago."

Emilie opened her mouth to counter Lydia's arguments but Mary stopped her in her tracks.

"Please, dear, let's not harshness command our comments. It _was_ avoidable until a few minutes ago…"

Emilie shot her a dubious look but accepted her argument. She now understood that it was often necessary to disguise the truth to maintain cordial relation with most of the people. Lydia wasn't a bad chess player but she played essentially by the book. There was –yet- no creativity in her moves. She could be pulled into doing dangerous moves just by playing in a certain manner. Which Mary did with regularity but with a few favorite moves which were telling volumes about her next set of moves.

"So you are chess players" asked Thomas to lighten the atmosphere. "I must admit I rarely encounter women who play my favorite board game."

"That's probably because men spend their time telling women that they are too daft to understand the subtlety of the rules" answered Emilie. "If you call your dog a cat long enough he's probably going to try to meow, don't you think?"

Thomas couldn't help by burst out laughing.

He had been warned that the Bennet team was a bunch of dangerous feminists but never would he have thought that even girls so young could become priestesses in that particular creed.

"I got your point mademoiselle" he said finally after having calmed down. "But you must admit that, as a man I have yet to grasp this new reality of women's equality. It's not easy to accept that what generations of parents –wives included- professed should suddenly be considered a falsity. Do you really believe our forefathers were all wrong?"

Emilie looked the Viscount in the eyes and smiled.

"I don't know –even if I have a good idea- why our forefathers decided to teach their daughters that they are a bunch of under-brained idiots but I _know_ I'm not in the least less intelligent than any boy –or man for that matter- I ever encountered." She looked at Mary, Lydia and Georgiana. "And present company doesn't give me the impression that women are any dafter than men." She made a move toward the chessboard. "I will admit that chess isn't my favorite pastime." She saw the hint of a smile blossoming on the Viscount's lips. "And no, my Lord, my favorite game has nothing to do with dolls." The hinted smile disappeared immediately. "My favorite pastime is _Kriegsspiel_, monsieur. Since I have discovered monsieur d'Arcy's war-games I do prefer playing against Papa and reenact all those battles he fought under Napoleon's command. Most often he wins –he's a general after all- but I must add that when I have the Austrian troops under my command I very often shatter the French under my father's command at Montebello, Montenotte and Pont d'Arcole. And I do it with ease because even a little girl like me must force herself to make as foolish decisions as the Austrian High command." Her eyes became very serious. "High Command exclusively composed of men of the best European aristocratic lineage, my Lord."

"Ouch" said Thomas admitting his defeat. "This one I had coming…" He bowed. "I concede my defeat, miss Duroc. But let's not fall into generalization, I'll admit that all men aren't intelligent but you'll have to admit that present company is not archetypal of Earth womenfolk."

"Of course not" interrupted Mary who even if very proud of her soon to be daughter, wasn't very interested to see her oppose Georgiana's suitor more than necessary. "But you'll have also to admit that present company is proof enough that a policy that prevents all women to enter interesting careers is foolish in the extreme."

"Being a mother and bring up children is not career enough?" asked Thomas with a frown.

Georgiana decided that it was perhaps time to test the ground and see how her would-be suitor would react to her opinion.

"Some women don't have the opportunity to find an adequate mate or, like Cousin Anne, do not have the health to survive childbirth. As of today those women, if not wealthy enough to survive on their own, have only the opportunity to live at the expense of some male member of her family or to become a governess. Isn't it unjust to condemn them to uninteresting occupations or subordinate positions? Isn't it especially unjust if they have the brain to do something useful for the country?"

"For those who are in those dire straits it is unjust, I concur. But don't you agree that being a mother and raising children is a useful task in itself?"

"I do concur," agreed Georgiana. "I will even avow that carrying, giving birth and raising the children of a beloved husband is probably the most marvelous deed a wife can have." She smiled but remained serious. "But as said a few minutes ago, some women don't have the opportunity to marry or, which is even worse, don't have the chance to have entered a happy marriage. For those you will admit that being a mother hasn't the same value than for those whose husband's love is lighting their life."

Thomas shook pensively his head. He wasn't against marrying for love. But it wasn't the reason he was calling on Miss Darcy. He wasn't in love… Not that Miss Bennet wasn't everything a man could want in a wife but it had never crossed his mind that in his circles trivial things like love between consorts could be of importance.

Of course with her brother's and her brother in law's examples it was normal that Miss Darcy would believe that love must play a role in the association of two people in wedlock.

He decided that frankness would be the best way out of his present dilemma.

"I'm not sure I can be convinced on these matters, Miss Darcy. I would love to marry for love but that's not the case right now." He looked her in the eyes. "You're beautiful, smart and for everything I've seen till now a lady of perfect upbringing who would be at her right place at my side. I don't want to lie to you about my feelings for you, Miss Darcy, I'm _not_ in love even if it would be an honor and a grace to have you as my consort…"

Georgiana seemed amazed.

"Are you asking me, my Lord?"

Thomas shook his head. What would she do if he would say yes? Accept? Refuse? Either way it would be a result that would bring no satisfaction to any of them.

"No I'm not –not yet at least- because, for now, you and I are not considering the same reasons to marry. You want a Prince Charming –which I'm definitively not- while I look for an aristocratic alliance. Marriage is still possible but I wouldn't want to deceive you by playing a role that, just now, I feel unable to master." He sighed heavily. "But I'm ready to go on trying, Miss Darcy."


	86. Final Preparations

**Chapter eighty-six: London Final Preparations**

* * *

**London, Friday the 9****th**** of November**

* * *

"Can it wait?" asked d'Arcy with a frown.

"It probably can but she is the first English steam-ship that comes out of the ship yards" answered Lebrun. "It could be a good occasion to stir up English confidence."

"Does English confidence need to be stirred up? As it comes out of my numerous reports England is at an unknown height in confidence. The Aristocracy is perhaps a little downcast but even they seem to perk up rather nicely. They are convinced that they'll get a new better Dynasty on the Throne and that everything will, within a year or two, smoothly slide back into normality."

"And you believe it won't, of course!"

"I know it won't" said d'Arcy. "We've changed things here and these changes will set an example all of Europe will have to follow sooner or later." He smiled at Lebrun. "The part with the taxes and the economic reforms will take within the next six months. The part with universal suffrage and women voters will take longer. In some countries it will even take decades. But it will take, mark my words, it will take."

"I'll take your word for it and I must admit that I'm, once more, amazed by your talent to not answer the initial question: will you be aboard the William the Conqueror for her maiden voyage?"

"We could wait and hand the task to William the First King of all Welshmen, couldn't we?"

"He's not the heir of the famous Duke of Normandy and while he is only King of all Welshmen there's no real reason to have him aboard an English ship."

"What you're saying is that I'm the only one available to do it…"

"Yes that's exactly what I'm saying" smiled Lebrun. "I can't, Fitzwilliam can't and we still have no First Lord of the Admiralty who, if there's no other choice, could be forced to take your place."

"We could rename her once more. I already have convinced you to not name her the Proconsul: we could just go on finding her a better name. Mannanan Mac Lyr, the God of the Seas, for instance, would be perfect and we could wait for Fitzwilliam."

"Mannanan Mac Lyr is an Irish God, must I remind you?"

"Welsh and Irish are close cousins, it could be explained easily. Or we could find a God half Irish, half Welsh!"

"You are the only one: that's it…" insisted Lebrun. "And since you are idle…"

"Idle? Do you really believe that a man with two beautiful and healthy wives has a chance to be idle?"

Lebrun shook his head while smiling.

"That's your problem ô you Master of the Harem" laughed Lebrun. "I won't let you present that excuse to slip out of an unwanted duty, _monsieur le Proconsul_! You're the man and that's it…"

"We could ask Jane, couldn't we? She's pregnant with my heir so she could technically play the role. The heir would be aboard."

"You would hand over that chore to your wife?"

D'Arcy looked toward the heavens.

"It's a two hour tour on the Thames, it could be considered as a pleasure trip…"

"In August, it could. Not in November and in London, d'Arcy!" insisted Lebrun. "Stop playing the watch, you're the one who must be aboard. The only real question is about the when! Do you have a preferred day to do it?"

"She's already afloat?"

"She's all yours the moment you accept the chore."

"I'll do it on Sunday then" sighed d'Arcy. "But hopefully it will be the last time you'll ask something like that from me!"

"I'd ask somebody else if I had the choice but her name and the circumstances make you the best and only choice." Lebrun's smile increased. "So yes you are right it will be the last time I ask something like that from you!"

* * *

"I'm not feeling very well" said Jane while breathing heavily under Maureen's expert massaging fingers.

"Something we ate?" asked Maureen.

"No, it's not really physical. More like an anguish that suddenly settled around my heart."

"You did have precognitions before?"

"It happened once or twice" answered Jane. "It probably happens in everybody's life from time to time, you know. But it came so suddenly. One second I was perfectly and soundly happy and the next there's that gut feeling that something will happen that chokes me out of the most pleasant of states."

She shook her head.

"It's perhaps only a mood change to associate with my pregnancy. It is said to happen that future mothers have cycles in their mood." Jane shrugged finally and let herself fall back on the table where Maureen was massaging her after their daily bout of training with the girls. Jane was now Maureen's second and she was discovering that if teaching was a joy in itself, it was taxing. "It's probably nothing important. It will pass;"

"I won't brush it aside so easily. Gut feelings, I know. They saved my life, and yours, more than once. Let's analyze what triggered it if we can. What were you thinking about?"

Jane's immediate blush –from top to toe and in a very becoming crimson- told Maureen everything about the things her sister was daydreaming over.

She knew that even if Jane was very practical in all things turning around sex and bodily functions she had it difficult to speak about it. Maureen, for instance, could swear that Jane had never once since they were sharing the same bed uttered the word 'fuck'. She wasn't prude at all in her behavior and nakedness was a thing she could master with just a hint of a blush when she noticed Geoffrey's –or hers for that matter- interest. But speaking about it was just not wired in her mind.

"So it was about Geoffrey and you…" smiled Maureen. "You believe it is in relation with our husband?"

Jane nodded and shivered.

"It is…" she whispered. "And when you spoke about him it came back with a vengeance." She couldn't help but let her body shake. Maureen's reaction was speedy and soon she was covered with a blanket and rubbed energetically.

Finally after quite a few minutes where Jane's body couldn't stop shaking she forced herself to breath slowly and deeply and finally recovered her calm.

"Something will happen to him" she said finally in a whisper. "I can't put a finger on what exactly will happen but I know it will be dangerous."

Maureen frowned. They had just this very morning spoken about their husband's agenda for the next months and what has come out was clearly that he wouldn't have to do anything dangerous until Napoleon called him back to his military duties. Which, in d'Arcy's own estimates, would let him work in London and England 'till February.

She forced herself to pass in review everything they had talked about in the morning and there really was nothing even remotely dangerous scheduled for d'Arcy within the next weeks.

But gut feelings were a thing a battle hardened veteran like d'Arcy's new wife could and would not take lightly.

"We'll have to speak with him when he comes back from Lebrun's office" decided Maureen. "He has perhaps gotten something new on his schedule… If that's the case we will know exactly what's this all about."

* * *

"It's only a maiden voyage on the Thames" said d'Arcy dismissingly. "Nothing dangerous at all. I climb aboard wave to the people who are crowding the shores during the two hours trip between the ship yards and London Tower and back."

"This ship" said Maureen. "It can explode…"

D'arcy smiled at his second wife and couldn't help but tease her.

"And your abhorrence for sea travel has, of course, nothing to do with that sudden fear of yours…"

"It was my feeling" interrupted Jane. "And I think she's right, it has to do with that steam thing in that boat. It will burst while you are aboard…"

D'Arcy made great efforts to stay calm and relaxed. He loved his wife –wives now- very much but if he should, one day, go on and listen to all their fears he would probably end up covering in his bed.

"I'll send Fulton to have a look at the machines, I promise. And if he finds anything I'll cancel the whole business, alright?"

"You could cancel without a reason…" tried Jane who had butterflies in her tummy even while speaking.

"Not any more" answered d'Arcy. "Lebrun was so glad to have succeeded to push me into accepting that he immediately spread the news. In case I would find new excuses not to go…"

"So you have that bad feeling too?" asked Maureen.

"Not at all" answered d'Arcy. "I just hate that ceremonial business. It is a waste of my time. Time I would prefer spending with you, my dear loved ones, or at my office doing something useful."

"I would prefer…" began Jane but he didn't let her go to the end of her sentence.

"I've already heard all about your fears, dear. And I will take all necessary precautions to be sure that nothing can happen. But yours are unfounded fears and this little trip on the Thames is much safer than a lot of thing I've done these last weeks in Ireland or even in England. I swear I won't take any risk and I won't climb inside. I'll stay the whole time on the bridge waving and smiling."

Jane shut up and clenched her teeth. She knew by his tone that he wouldn't accept discussing this matter any further. She would have to speak to Charles to get him take even more precautions.

But her shaking innards were telling her the same very distasteful story.

The crisis was still lurking over them and with Geoffrey being unreasonable she would have to weather it without his help. She shot a glance at Maureen who was as worried as her.

She forced her hands to stop to shake. It wouldn't help to go into hysterics when her husband was bent on not believing her.

She'd have to be strong till Sunday. Perhaps something would come up to help her.

* * *

Pitney had appeared at his cell door and within minutes they had been able to exit the prison.

"Why now? What's Happening?" asked George who had followed the news and was quite amazed by what had happened these last few weeks.

"The Proconsul, which has been renamed once more to be called the William the Conqueror, is about to be launched for her maiden voyage. And we need you to stage the last part of d'Arcy's story."

"We still blow him up? Why?"

"_You _blow him up" corrected Pitney. "There's a difference there. And you blow him up because you are a slimy bastard who was never able to overcome the beating he gave you at Brighton. You kill him because you hate him, that's the truth."

Looking at George's amazed face Pitney could only laugh aloud.

"Officially, of course, that's not the reason you'll give for your heroic deed. You will state that you couldn't let your cousin live because you, his accomplice form the first hour, knew his real objectives in Britain: aka grasp the Throne of England. Because everything he did since landing at Brighton was bent at giving him access to his ancestor's Throne. You've been with him from the beginning and you've seen all his schemes unwinding. You, even if you are not a saint, couldn't stand that a man of such ambition and lack of scruples could succeed in his endeavors." Pitney made a calming gesture. "Don't worry we have trunks full of papers that describe d'Arcy's plans from the beginning. All his schemes and all his real goals. Even if you die while running before the French chasing you, your legacy will survive and demonstrate that you were a real hero bend on protecting your country against a Tyrant …"

George shot him an angry look.

"I'll survive, don't you dare doubting it. I'll survive just to get a chance at shooting you!"

"That's the spirit, Georgie! It will perhaps give you the little extra energy to outrun a thousand French soldiers and the whole London gendarmerie. You'll need it, believe me!"

George looked around him.

Perhaps…

"Don't even think about it" threatened Pitney. "If necessary your dead body floating in the Thames with a last message will do just fine. A real hero is always ready to sacrifice his life in order to reach his goals. It would be a very fitting death for a hero of your caliber. But if you stay alive till your last act it would be so much better to give this whole story a real perfume of antic drama."

"What last act?"

"The last act where, before the grieving mass of Constituents you shout to the world that it wasn't an accident that you did the deed and that you had to kill the man who would have destroyed England to satiate his appetite for power."

George made a face at the description.

"And they won't shoot me at sight?"

"No, because you'll be protected by a screen of astounded spectators who will in part be with us. You'll just have a sentence to shout and your manifest to throw at the face of the world." Pitney snickered while grabbing George by his left arm. "And then you run like never before in your life."

"We'll have two days to show you the scene of your perhaps last dramatic entrance. With enough preparation and a small amount of luck you'll be able to get out of the mousetrap."

"What if I let them just catch me and denounce you?"

"You'll be killed by an overzealous gendarme even before you've uttered two words, that's all!" laughed Pitney. "Please stop believing there's a loose end somewhere in our plan. The only loose end you'll get is what you are able to prepare for yourself these next days. I'll show you the place of your last triumph and you'll have the opportunity to study the lay of the building as long as you wish. It's up to you to find a solution and save your life." Pitney tapped George on the shoulder. "These next days, Georgie, are days of utmost importance for your survival. I hope you'll invest enough time and attention in them. Because if you act in your usual flippant manner you'll just end dead!" He pulled him by the arm toward a waiting carriage. "Let's go, Georgie a lot of hard work awaits us."

* * *

Belgram sighed.

The final act was finally about to be launched. Weeks of thorough preparations were on the brink of finding, at last, their conclusion.

He wasn't sure if he was satisfied that it would soon be over. That soon he would be able to return to his usual work of working for the good of his citizens. It had been a very full period of his life and he would probably come to regret these weeks of secrets and mysteries.

He looked, one last time, over the list.

The twelve items of the list were all ready and the last thing he needed to do was to push Fouché's pair of bloodhounds on the false tracks that would guide them to the treasure vault where everything would be explained.

It had been difficult to lead them by the nose in so many false directions while the last pieces were taking their places.

But now he could, and he was relieved to have been able to sort everything out, just give this last order.

He took his pen and crossed out the ultimate item of his list. He smiled by looking at it and walked finally to the fireplace where a good fire was growling. He threw the paper with the list into the fire.

He could have burned it without crossing out the last line but it would have been as if he hadn't seen it through. He knew now while looking at the burning paper that all his hard work had not been in vain.

Soon d'Arcy would be free from his so heavy burden.


	87. Day Off

**Chapter eighty-seven: London Day Off**

* * *

**London, Friday the 9****th**** of November**

* * *

"I can find a few men to give the 'meeting' a little more credibility" said Maureen who was more than involved in the matter of what Mary called –only for herself- the 'ambush' and the others the 'meeting'.

"I think it will be credible enough" said Mary. "We are organizing a meeting, not an ambush, you remember?"

"A certain degree of threat should enhance the credibility of the gentleman's reaction…" said Lydia.

"We want to have more hints on the Viscount's personality" added Kitty. "That's all the reason of this meeting!"

"That we know" admitted Mary. "And even if I agree with you about the necessity of building a real image of the Viscount's personality, I feel that this whole endeavor looks more and more like an attempt to disgust him from going on with this relationship."

"That's an exaggeration, Mary" protested Kitty. "We just want to be sure that he is honest with Georgie."

"Why not let her feel him out through 'normal' encounters?" asked Mary. "Neither Fitzwilliam, nor Geoffrey was very well known by Lizzie or Jane but they fought through all the awkwardness of a budding relationship with just each other to take into account." She looked at her sisters and at Maureen. "Now we are adding our own expectations in what should only be their very own experiences. What if the encounter we are so patiently setting up brings Thomas to act foolishly or even cowardly? It's quite sure that it will lessen him in Georgie's eyes and that it will more probably shatter her expectations."

"Which would be a good thing'" said Maureen. "We don't want her to fall for a fool or a coward."

"We are all fools or cowards from time to time, Maureen. Or we can be astounding and courageous. It depends on the circumstances! Georgiana is not yet seventeen, she's in no hurry to marry and she could very well receive calls from her numerous suitors for quite a few years before having to make a decision. He calls on her? Why not? Since Lizzie and Jane's romantic wedding Georgie's probably not very sure about what she wants. Of course she dreams about a husband who would be of the same caliber as Geoffrey or Fitzwilliam. But this dream is also her very best protection. She's looking for someone who could be measured against what she thinks is Fitzwilliam or Geoffrey! To come up against that expectation her suitors will have to be much more than handsome and rich, believe me!"

"So you say we should do nothing?" said Lydia with a frown.

"Of course not" lied Mary who of course was saying exactly that! "But we must, before all, take into account that the more we interfere the more we disrupt the relationship they are beginning to build. Even if we don't want any other Wickham in our family let's not forget that, in the end, it will be her choice and her life! She has a right to discover her suitor on her own with as less foreign interference as possible."

She saw Kitty nod and made a huge effort not to sigh. With Kitty on her side she would swing Lydia and Maureen, even if her antipathy for English Aristocracy was clouding her judgment, would follow.

"She's right" said Kitty finally. "I wouldn't like anybody meddling with my relationship with Charles. It's difficult enough to sort things out when there are but us two, I can very well picture what a mess our relationship could become if others' expectations had to be included."

Lydia was visibly not satisfied.

"So we do nothing?"

Mary decided that now it was Kitty's move. She had shown from the beginning that she was reluctant; insisting now would only exacerbate Lydia and Maureen's desire to have their way.

"Of course not" answered Kitty. "We do everything in our power to get those two together in as much different settings as possible, that's what we do! But we don't add anything to the normality of events. I'm quite sure we know enough original people in our surroundings to strain even the most stolid aristocrat's patience."

She smiled at Lydia.

"I'm quite sure I could ask Ma Biorna to organize a little get together. You don't know her yet but I'm quite sure you'll like her. Even if she is a little special in her 'Head of the Clan Matriarch' way of butting heads, she's more than adequate to put people on edge. If he resists that sort of strain he'll be a long way to have my approbation."

Lydia closed her eyes for a few seconds and finally nodded.

"You're right" she said at last. "We owe it to Georgie to help her without destroying anything in the wake of our attempts." She lifted expectantly her eyebrows. "Let's go look at your Irish Dragon…"

She looked at Maureen.

"Still with us Mrs. d'Arcy?"

Maureen opened her mouth to refuse when she remembered that she was no longer duty-bound to guard Jane. She was Geoffrey's wife and, he had been very clear about it, no longer under any constraint. She could do with her time as she wanted and her pocket money had been adjusted to that of Jane giving her a personal wealth she'd never dreamed of. Not that she intended to spend much more than Jane whose only expenses were gifts for family or charities.

She sighed and smiled at the same time.

"I'm with you just for the sake of using my new discovered liberty to do as I please. But let's ask Jane and Elizabeth if they want to come. I'm sure they are busy but who knows they are perhaps interested.

* * *

Jane would perhaps have been interested but considering where she was and that she was there in company of her –their- husband, Maureen decided that it was not the right time to disturb her. She had been very happy to have Geoffrey all for herself during their wedding night and since then she could very well understand that not having a witness of one's most intimate outbursts could be a pleasure in itself.

They hadn't have time to discuss their new situation but it was clear that now that their marital condition had been cleared it would probably be better to assign some periods to where they could be all alone with Geoffrey. She had considered asking for a private night chamber but had soon discarded the idea. No it was quite evident that she enjoyed sleeping with both of their consorts. It gave her an impression of safeness and normality she had never found when she was forced to sleep alone. No, if Jane agreed, she would go on sharing the marital bed but, from time to time she would be very happy to get some time alone with her husband… And it was clear that Jane was feeling just the same need.

She smiled while closing carefully the second set of doors that enclosed their quiet –now noisy- little love nest.

* * *

Lizzie was interested but busy so they postponed their little visit to the Bingley House –called by everybody but Caroline and Mrs. Hurst the Biorna House- to the early afternoon where Lizzie would be free to come with them. With luck Jane would be at that moment free to join too.

Lizzie looked up from the Welsh reports she read every morning after breakfast. Geoffrey d'Arcy had a very keen sense of what was important to look at in a country and he had agreed to hand her a copy of everything he received about Wales. Fitzwilliam knew she had reports –lots of reports- and he probably suspected where they came from but he had never asked about them and she had never offered to explain how she came to have that regular flow of information.

Lizzie was sure that some information never came her way and stayed in d'Arcy's closet. But that was alright with her. There were things she didn't really want to know.

What she wanted to know was everything about the situation of the people.

Slowly she was acquiring a real working knowledge of the situation in Wales.

What came out of her studies was essentially that Wales was a poor country where most people lived scarcely but without risks to their survival. Fitzwilliam had shown her the maps the University of Heidelberg's geologists had drawn for him and it was quite clear that with the beginning of the steam power era Wales' underground was showing real potentials. There would be opportunities to give work to quite a lot of people but Geoffrey had convinced Fitzwilliam that in matters mining there would be better opportunities once the Company had finalized the heavy duty machines he had asked Fulton to developed. As he envisioned the future of mining operation a lot of what was done by humans would be done –easier and faster- by machines. It would give less persons work but it would give them better paid and safer work. And if there was one thing Lizzie wanted to nip in the bud, it was child and wife work as it had appeared in certain mines of Northern England and Scotland. Young children had a right to enjoy their childhood even if born in hovels and cottages. And to give them that possibility there was only one way: their father had to earn enough to be able to feed and clothe them all by himself. She had already spoken with Lady de Bourgh who, –because of her incessant meddling in everyone's business- had a very good working knowledge of the reasons why poverty could spread, about ways to give wives jobs they could pursue while at home. There were some things machines would be unable to fashion for quite some time and it was those things they had to offer to house bound women. Lace was probably the most precious material they could manufacture. On condition that the lace was as intricate and precious as possible. "No need to have them make cheap lace" had said Lady de Bourgh, "that won't earn them enough money to increase their income. What we have to do is convince them to manufacture lace for the rich and the powerful. The type of lace d'Arcy showers on his wife. Every lady of the ton is, right now, looking for the type of lace Jane's wearing on a daily basis on even her simplest and most shocking gown. And until now this sort of lace comes from France. We need to have it manufactured here…"

Which was exactly what Lizzie was trying to make happen. It had helped to have _madame_ d'Arcy signing the recruiting letters and thanks to this little subterfuge she soon would have France's best lace manufacturers at her disposal to teach their craft to second generation teachers and the most talented of Welsh crafters.

Having that sort of possibilities gave her life extraordinary new perspectives. She had always enjoyed looking after the tenants of their home estate but having to look after a whole population was quite another challenge. But it was a challenge she felt herself ready to master.

This lace business wouldn't give every wife a good providing job but those who would be formed would have the means to really help their families.

And there were other possibilities. The next generation of Welsh women would have been able to go to school and to learn trades that, for now, were reserved for men. As she well knew –her mother being an exception in that matter- most households were managed by the wife and not by the husband. Proof aplenty that women could enter the managing trade without increasing the risks a business was running.

She had discussed the matter with Jane and her aunts –Mrs. Gardiner and Lady de Bourgh- and they all agreed that if men were better at taking risks, women were best at managing things smoothly and safely.

In fact, the problem of women's education had, all by itself, landed on Lizzie's desk. Of course Wales had copied the common governmental structure most countries shared. France's experimentation being something everybody looked at but nobody dared to follow; all were staying within the old traditional power structure which distinguished only five –six- major ministries. There was always Inner and Outer affairs, Justice and Money and Armed forces. In Countries with strong fleets, armed forces were often divided between land and sea forces. Education was in nobody's agenda. But hers! Since building schools –and the structure necessary to make them work- was in no way prestigious enough, no man had volunteered to do the job. So it had been the Consort who had inherited the minor task of building the Welsh school system. No man of importance in his right mind had even considered taking the frivolous post proposed.

Lizzie smiled at the shortsightedness of certain politicians. Did they really believe that building a school system was such a trivial affair? A school system would influence the society for the century to come. What she was engineering would be her Nations backbone for decades.

Lizzie giggled discreetly. She would find the teachers for those schools on two different levels: within the priests' households whenever possible. Because by enlisting the Priests she knew she would be able to secure social acceptance. But there would be places were the priests –or their wives which were the primary target of Lizzie's policy- wouldn't be able to do the job. There she would hire her teachers within the great mass of young educated women who till now had no real professional perspectives besides becoming governesses for wealthy families. Now they would have a State sponsored career. A career which would give them the financial independence and the social status most of them only dreamed of.

Lizzie smiled to herself. She had asked Mrs. Collins about her plans and Charlotte had been more than enthusiastic about the perspectives it could open to her and every other Priest's wife in Britain. She had even proposed to enlist her husband who while having lots of faults was quite patient and understanding with young children. He would never be a good teacher in sense of efficiency but he would surely –to believe his wife- be a loved teacher. Lizzie had frowned at her friend's description of her husband but had forced herself to stomp on her prejudice and had accepted Charlotte's testimony. Andrew Collins was family and if things became what everybody believed they would become –Lizzie smiled at her own cowardice: never would she say the word King and she was even now attempting not to think it- he would be a member of the King's family. They would have to find him a job adequate for his new rank and she didn't doubt that –judging by his bootlicking habits for a 'simple' Lady- he would be the most conniving sycophant the world had known.

She could perhaps employ him in her school project. She would have to think about it… It could even be possible that with the husband having an important post –Lizzie cringed at the thought- somewhere in her administration she could have Charlotte in the neighborhood.  
Yes, having Jane and Charlotte near would be marvelous.

She forced herself to go back to work.

She had already selected the matters that would be taught in school! Nothing fancy there; they would learn to read, to write and to calculate. Everything else would be proposed after the first two years to the best pupils. Those would be given stipends and would have to move to schools –High Schools, Royal Schools, State Boarding Schools?- where they would be taught what they needed to become what they wished to be in the future. What was important was to teach to children all the basic knowledge the new technological society they were building needed to work. Once this basic knowledge acquired, most of the pupils would exit the system to go back to their families. But some –in Lizzie's mind _all _those who were showing interesting possibilities- would be sent to State boarding schools where they would be formed to all those professions the company would soon need.

She was just now working on the teachers' syllabus and was wondering what should be the conditions of admission for the pupils. She could already hear the complaints of all those parents who needed their children's work to just survive. But she also knew that if she accepted to let the poorest be outcasts the situation would never move on. It was her duty to give all the children a chance to learn at school. So to combine the families' and the State's need she would create a school for the very young. The very age where kids were of little help for the parents but were keen and fast learners. She had already decided that they would spend the day at school. It would save the parents their kids' meals and would assuage all stress from the kids. They would learn, eat, sleep and play at school and go back to their homes for the evening. For two –_three_?- years they would be pupils not small beasts of burden! If she had it her way everywhere where there was a parish she would build a school and delegate to the Parish Priest the duty to convince the parents to send their kids. They would have the influence needed to nip the parents' reluctance in the bud.

As she saw it she would influence the future with more efficiency than those mighty men could even imagine. And, if things took the path everybody was taking for granted –another smile at her cowardice- she would have everything ready in time to play the same role in England and Great Britain.

And wouldn't _that _be funny!


End file.
